I Am A Professional: I’m A Momma

I’m a big believer in signs these days.

So, when I came across a recent article about a stay-at-home mom who has no desire to return to her managing editor roots because she believes her career was to raise her two daughters, I knew God was trying to tell me something. I mean, could this be any more poetic? I, too, gave up my career as a senior editor to stay home with my kids. I, too, have been struggling with and obsessing over what the future holds for me now that my kids are in school. But whereas this momma hasn’t indulged in the societal pressure to “find herself” again through the career path, I haven’t been so strong.

My soul-searching journey began about a year ago. My daughter was in preschool full-time and my son was set to start a few months later. Suddenly, the years had caught up to me and it was time for me to begin thinking about my future again. What would my days look like once both kids were in school? Should I remain a stay-at-home and focus on my writing (my true passion for as long as I can remember) or jump back into the professional arena? I knew what society would tell me to do. No self-respecting mother in this day and age would be content staying at home when she could be out there climbing the corporate ladder, running her own tight ship, and making the big bucks. Right? No self-respecting woman could possibly be fulfilled simply by being a mother. Right?

Now, before I continue, I just want to say that I know many amazing mommas who are professional rock stars. They are living their dreams, running their own companies or departments, and kicking some serious butt in their fields. They are my heroes for chasing their dreams and making it work for their families. Oh, and they’re raising some pretty awesome kids, too. This is not any sort of statement against working mommas. This is about me personally and what’s best for me and my own family. OK, now that we’re clear, let’s move on.

Before I became a mom, I never realized how judgmental parenting could be—individually and as a society. We’re vilified when we spend too much time with our kids, and when we don’t spend enough. We’re admonished when our kids are enrolled in too many extracurricular activities, and when they aren’t enrolled in any. We’re criticized when our village is too big, and when it’s nonexistent. We’re condemned when we put our kids on a schedule, and when we don’t. We’re wrong when we choose to stay home, and when we go back to work. We’re judged over vaccines, religions, screen time, discipline strategies, rules, schooling, chores, nutrition, coping mechanisms, wardrobes, morals, ideologies, you name it.

And now that I’m on the verge of figuring out what to do next, it’s blatantly clear that a mother’s “career” is another hot topic, and everyone’s got an opinion. Everywhere I look, I’m bombarded with the idea that my identity is tied to who I am—or was—professionally. And that I somehow don’t measure up if I choose not to indulge in that ideal. I constantly feel this pressure to do something with my time, to find something that fulfills me outside of my role as a mom and a homemaker. You know, something other than raising my children into happy, kind, compassionate, independent, moral, well-adjusted adults—and in a society chock full of anything but.

Don’t get me wrong, there are times—when I’m knee-deep in sibling warfare, temper tantrums, mood swings, laundry, mealtimes, bedtime routines, after-school activities, homework, whatever—that I long for the days when my sole responsibility was a corporate job. There are moments when I miss being in charge, making money, interacting with other professionals, and engaging in intellectually stimulating conversation. And because of this, I started buying into this notion that the only way to find myself again was to rejoin the working class. It wasn’t enough during my stint as a stay-at-home that I became president of a local mom’s club, finally began writing again, and started a personal blog. Nothing is ever enough these days. Life always seems to be about more, more, more. Who’s more successful or wealthy or powerful or connected.

So, a few months ago, when a part-time job opportunity fell into my lap, I decided it was in my family’s best interests to put myself back out there, to get my feet wet, if you will. This job, while not directly in my area of expertise, would allow me to get out of my house, make some money, and flex my professional muscle. More importantly, though, it would give me the flexibility to be home for my kids when they needed me. I figured it was the perfect solution to having the best of both worlds: to be a mom and a professional.

Imagine my surprise when the opposite happened. Instead of feeling fulfilled, I felt overwhelmed, stressed out, anxious, and guilty. And it has nothing to do with the job. It’s all me. I underestimated how involved kindergarten was going to be. I didn’t understand that adding responsibility outside that of being a parent (mostly because my kids are still so young) would throw me off my game in ways I didn’t expect, like the constant chasing around, less time for household errands and tasks, no time for writing, you get the gist. I also didn’t appreciate the fact that I had left myself with literally no “down” time for self-care. But what really got me is that I didn’t realize how much it would bother me that I no longer had the time to become involved with my daughter’s school (as room parent, as lunch helper, as a PTO representative), or my son’s for that matter. Here I was thinking I wanted to get away from all things parenting and yet as soon as I had that opportunity, I wanted out.

But it’s more than that.

Once I stepped back to reexamine my situation, I realized that what I truly miss isn’t a career, but the autonomy that goes with it. I miss my freedom. The ability to step out of my role as a momma once in a while, to unwind, to clear my mind, to refocus and regroup. For it’s in those moments that I’m a better parent. I’m calmer, more patient, and a lot less likely to lose my temper. I don’t need a career or a job to feel fulfilled. I see that now. I just need my family and the time and freedom to write. That’s it. I know it’s not going to be an easy road, and I’m sure I’ll be bitching and moaning about it along the way (I am a professional complainer, after all, LOL). And sometimes I might get down on myself for paying my way through college only to end up wasting my degree. But deep down I know I made the right decision—for me and for my family.

I’ll always be proud of the career I built for myself, but it never truly defined me. I always wanted more and now I have it. And being a stay-at-home doesn’t make me any less of a professional. After all, I’m here raising future stars of America, and that’s about as professional as you can get these days.