Working moms vs. Stay at home moms… Aaah, this old debate again? Working moms get to shop at Ann Taylor and experience something called a “lunch hour”! SAHMs get their own acronym and don’t have to iron! Ever!

As a SAHM, I also enjoy the generally happy faces of approval that society grants me. I notice this particularly at the pediatrician’s office, when the nurse asks if my child attends daycare. I reply “no” and usually I am met with a sigh of relief. One nurse even snuck in an “oh, good.” What, I wonder, do you say to working moms who reply “yes” to that question?!

Well mommies, here’s a doozy for you. Tonight at the dinner table, the following conversation happened:

My 4-year old son told my 2-year old daughter: “When you grow up, you will be a mommy.”

Her reply: “I want to be a lawyer like daddy.”

My son then said, “Only boys can be lawyers.”

Punch. In. The. Gut.

To add salt to the wound, my daughter followed up with, “Yeah. Mommies don’t work.”

Double punch. I wanted to crawl under the table into a ball. But I didn’t. I saw an opportunity here to educate both of my children about mommies and daddies and work and careers and equality and… and… And I think they eventually tuned me out.

My kids do not know that I earned both my undergraduate and graduate degrees, worked for 7 years, and supported my husband and paid the rent through his law school. Their Mommy wears a ponytail every day, buys animal crackers for this week’s play date, and picks up Daddy’s dry cleaning.

I do try very hard to set a good example for all of my children, but particularly for my daughter as I am her female role model. I tell her that Mommy exercises to get stronger, in order foster positive body image. She cheers me on during my work outs, saying “You are getting stronger, Mommy!” I tell her that she and I have girl power that helps us be brave and strong and fight our fears. I read with her, and each of us gets our own books at the library — including “big grown up books” for Mommy. I know these are all good examples for her to see. But at 2 years old, all she knows is a daddy who wears nice clothes and goes to work, sometimes on “airplane trips” to be a lawyer. And Mommy stays home with her, brings her to the grocery store, cooks dinner, cleans the house, does the laundry… you know the list.

And I have told her many times that she can be anything she wants to be. Of course I would love for her to be a mommy, a SAHM if she chooses. But I DEFINITELY want her to have a career, a passion, something for herself that sucks us dry financially for 4-10 years of schooling.

Hearing these words hurt. A lot. However, I have to remind myself that I may not show her a mommy who goes off to work every day in an office like Daddy does, but I do show her a mommy who does her best. Who works hard. Who sacrifices. Who misses working but treasures her time at home. Who made a choice. And who should probably wear comfy pants less often.

Earlier in the day, I had mentioned that I needed to buy a bottle of wine. It was MNO (Moms’ Night Out) at a friend’s house and I had offered to bring a beverage. Fast forward a few hours.

Sitting at the pediatrician’s office pharmacy waiting for a prescription, my son notices a vending machine.

“Mom, do you want to get something out of that machine?”
“No, honey. I am ok. Thanks though.”
“But it has bottles in it. See the picture on the front?”
“Um, ok….?? What do you think Mommy needs?”
“You need to get a bottle of wine for yourself. I bet they have them in that machine. You don’t want to forget!”

Multiple heads turn (many belonging to doctors and nurses — the rest belonging to other parents).

Thank you, son, for making everyone in this room think I am the kind of mother who would buy wine out of a vending machine. (How amazing would it be to be though to buy wine out of a vending machine?!)

I had already purchased said wine earlier in the day without him knowing (apparently) so I thanked him for his concern but informed him that Mommy was all set.

I have not “dated” in 14 years (which means never) but I hear people out in the dating world say that they don’t like to “play games.” I am sure I would agree if I were a part of that scene. However, I feel like I am forced to “play games” on daily basis, although not with a grown-up. I am forever in a battle of predicting a person’s behavior, anticipating my reaction to that person’s behavior, and praying for one thing to happen, only to face the reality that the exact opposite occurs… That person is 2-years old and she runs my life.

For example, she and I play games on a daily basis at “quiet time.” I am lucky enough to have kids who give up their naps at 2 years old (yay me), which immediately institutes daily “quiet time.” The kids have to spend about 45 minutes in their rooms playing, reading, writing on the walls… really Mommy doesn’t care. Quiet time always occurs when baby brother is sleeping. They can be in the middle of a game of Candy Land and if baby brother falls asleep, Mommy leaps up and whisks the older two upstairs. It’s quiet time! Time for Mommy to have a minute to herself. (Because seriously, it ends up being exactly that: one solid minute of peace. See below.)

Today’s scene:
Mommy: “Okay, it’s time to go upstairs!”
2-year old daughter: “Nooooo! I need to finish building this library out of Legos!” (Cute, I know. But go upstairs.)
“Okay, you can add one more piece and then it’s quiet time.”
(Piece added.)
“I need to add a Lego guy! Someone needs to be IN the library!”
(Guy added.)
“Okay, time to go upstairs.”

After 5 more minutes of negotiation, she is in her room. Mommy goes downstairs.
12 seconds later:
“Mommy! You need to take this puzzle out of here!”
“Just keep in your room until after quiet time.”
“Noooooo! I don’t want it in here!!”

Now, I know what you are thinking. Don’t indulge this ridiculousness. Don’t play her games. However, baby brother is sleeping right next door to her room. Thus the constant game-playing. Do I ignore her and run the risk that she wakes up brother, and therefore ending all chances of a minute of peace this afternoon? Or do I keep giving in to her senseless demands, and as a result, also get no peace for the next 45 minutes? Hmmmm….. is this what dating is like? Do I call him? Do I text back and run the risk that he thinks I am desperate? But if I don’t call, will he think I am ignoring him? Aaaah! Scary repercussions either way!

Well, I am wrapping up this blog post. She is in her room, playing quietly at this moment (after I took the unwanted puzzle out). If I am lucky, I will have about 8 more minutes of peace. Bliss.