A Working Mother?

     
   
     There is no role with which I have identified more than that of a working mother.  Like most humans, I’ve carried many labels.  I've been a daughter, sister, student, teacher, friend, and wife.  None has ever defined me as much as being a working mother.  Becoming a mother was a huge role that I wholeheartedly dove into and which did become a major part of my identity.  Going back to work, when my sons started school, thrust me into the role of working mother.  I wore that label like a badge of honor.

    

     When I became a mother, there were many sources available, from how to conceive to “What to expect when you’re expecting.” Once they (the children) arrived, there were play groups, etc. When I went back to work and became a working mother, my MS. Magazines were replaced with issues of Working Mother.  As a working mother there were many perks.  As a stay at home mom, I couldn’t decline when the class “Room Mother” called to ask for a volunteer.  As a Working Mother, I never felt guilty if I couldn’t bake cookies for the class party or if my sons walked into class with “store-bought.”  I never felt guilty if I couldn’t help set up for the next assembly.  I didn’t feel guilty if I had to miss a staff meeting to pick up my kids from school, or stay home with a sick little boy.  (Let’s face it, I didn’t feel guilty about those things before I became a mom either.)  The advantages didn’t outweigh the typical working mom guilt, but it did ease it a bit.  If my house was a mess, I knew it was because I worked all week, along with helping with homework and chauffeuring my sons to Tae Kwon Do, soccer, etc.  Besides, there was advice everywhere to assist the working mother with anything she needed. This was all until my youngest went off to college.  That alone is another rant, but I will write about that in the fall when I am in the midst of it again and I can perhaps receive and offer support. 

     So three years ago when my youngest went away to college, it hit me.  I was driving to work one morning and the radio talk show host was discussing her predicament as a working mom.  Was I still considered a Working Mom? I didn’t have to rush home so my son wasn’t left to fend for himself.  There was no one for which to cook a meal, (no one except my husband, but as I said in my previous post, I am not a conventional wife).  I had no IEPs to attend as a parent, or school-parent emails to read.   So was I still a working mother?  When I asked my husband this question, he looked at me as if to say, “Don’t you have more important things to occupy your mind?”  I can’t blame him for his lack of support.  After all there is no Working Father Magazine.   

     I’m still a mother to two functioning human beings who are walking the earth.  I am still working.  So aren’t I still a Working Mother?  The day of my realization I decided to find an online support group.  There isn’t one.  The answers cannot be found on the Internet or in self-help books. There is plenty of information about empty nesters; about rekindling your relationship with your husband after the kids are gone; etc.  There is nothing about the abrupt disappearance of the your identity as a “Working Mother.” 

     After my youngest started college, I took up many of the hobbies I had before children.  I joined an Art group, which I believe saved me, and I am writing again.  I have more time to devote to my friendships now, which is very important to me.  I am writing about this because I hope to offer support.  I’m not a counselor, but I wish someone had warned me about the sudden and extreme grief I would experience.  Maybe there are no resources because Working Mother is only a label, but, for me, the Working Mother label, made me feel like I belonged to something big and important.  

     If you can contribute or offer support, please leave a comment and come back again!