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If By Yes

~ the musings of a left wing left hander with two left feet

If By Yes

Tag Archives: working mother

The Time Draws Nigh (In Which I Agonize About Going Back To Work And Am Both Successful And In Deep Trouble Simultaneously)

15 Tuesday Mar 2016

Posted by IfByYes in Damn Dogs, Fritter Away, Life and Love, Me vs The Sad, Perfect Husband

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

anxiety, depression, dog training, maternity leave, parenthood, Perfect Husband, work, working mother

How has it been nearly a year since Fritter was born? Where did the time go?

  
I have spent the last month or two slowly gearing back up to work mode, because in a month I am going to have to go back into the world of unmet expectations and absolutely no down time which is the life of the working mother.

I don’t wanna.

I don’t want my cuddly baby to get bigger.

I don’t want to leave her at daycare because she has some stranger issues (which I will discuss at some point).

I don’t want the stress of having to meet people’s expectations, avoid judgement, etc.

I don’t want to lose the hour and a half of down time I get every day during Fritter’s morning nap while Owl is at school.

I don’t want any of it. I LIKE maternity leave.

 
But, since it isn’t a choice, what I really want is to get my dog training business going, and going HARD. Because training dogs pays between 40 and 70 dollars an hour and working at the vet clinic… doesn’t. Also because it’s one of my life dreams, along with being an author.

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A Day In The Life

27 Wednesday Jun 2012

Posted by IfByYes in From The Owlery, I'm Sure This Happens To Everyone..., Life and Love

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

babies, schedules, sleep, toddlers, work, working mother

I thought I would transcribe my last 24 hours or so for your perusal. Behold the glamorous existence of the working mother of a toddler. It’s going to be exciting. Are you excited?

4:02 AM

Perfect Husband brings Owl to me in bed, as neither of us feels able to deal with another wake-up. Owl nurses and I go back to sleep.

5:19 AM

Awoken by a heavy weight bouncing up and down on my neck, the musty scent of a pee-filled diaper, and a tiny voice going “Mama Horsey! MAMA HORSEY!”

Go back to sleep after giving a quarter-hearted “neigh…”

5:23 AM

“Mama up! MAMA UP!”

“It’s still sleepy time, Owl.” He may or may not understand me, because I am speaking directly into my pillow.

5:26 AM

“MILK! MIIIIIIILK!! PEEEEASE!”

6:35 AM

Perfect Husband walks into the room to find me lying prone with Owl nursing upside down on top of me, with most of his body sprawled on top of my face.

6:38 AM

I am slapped repeatedly on the head.

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I Want My Baby Back, Baby Back, Baby Back…

24 Wednesday Aug 2011

Posted by IfByYes in How is Babby Formed?

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

child care, child development, daycare, going back to work, television, working mother

I’m sure you’re all dying to know how Babby’s first day at daycare went.

Because clearly, your lives all revolve around MY life.

Oh, the ego-centric bloggerverse.

Anyway, he was fine. That massive all-night sleep ended at 4:45 am, so he was already exhausted and drowsy when I dropped him at daycare. Daycare Lady had no problem putting him to sleep thanks to that.

Well, thanks to that… and the sleepy suit.

She told me that he gobbled an egg (he had already had bacon and eggs and toast at home that morning), and pita, and LAMB SHANK, and rice, and crackers…

“He’s a really good eater!”

So I hear.

“He likes to feed himself.”

Yes, yes he does. I didn’t use the word “Baby Led Weaning” in case she thought I was a nut job, but I did tell her that he had never had purees – that I had always just handed him stuff off of my plate, and he’d eat it. Which is true. (Never mind that for the first month or so, he would just suck on it, rather than eat it, so he didn’t really start solids until seven months old…)

Anyway, he played and she said he didn’t cry at all. When I cam in the door he signed “milk” at me (Daycare Lady also thinks it means “Mommy” because she said there were times when he made it during the day and had no interest in the milk she brought). He wasn’t overjoyed to see me, just “oh, hey, about time you showed up. Boob me, woman.”

After he’d nursed for a bit, he went back to crawling around while I talked to her, wrote checks and so on.

All of that was good. But I didn’t experience much relief because I was drowning in the horror of what I had seen when I had arrived to pick him up…

I arrived about fifteen minutes earlier than I had told her to expect me. I looked in the window and saw him playing near the door while snacking on some pita.

AND DORA THE EXPLORER WAS PLAYING ON THE TELEVISION SET.

*dramatic mus8c* Dum Dum DUM!

Most of you know, I think, that I’m a little weird about television. I hate it with a passion. HATE. IT.

I mean, yes, I do watch T.V. But never on my own, as a solitary activity. Wouldn’t occur to me (well, except for those first couple of months when Babby had me pinned to a chair all frigging day). We don’t consider cable worth paying money for.

I like certain TV shows – House M.D., Glee, Sex and the City, Friends, Dragon’s Den, Mythbusters, Canada’s Worst Driver… but I hate commercials. I like to watch things on DVD whenever possible.

And pediatricians agree that television is totally mind-rotting for under-twos. Especially children’s television! I would rather Babby watch the news than children’s programming.

I specifically chose this daycare because the lady said the kids didn’t watch tv. SO WHY WAS DORA THE EXPLORER CHATTERING INANELY AT MY CHILD?

To be fair, he wasn’t watching, or plunked in front of the set. But it was ON. He could be hypnotized by it at any moment.

I brought it up almost immediately, and the Daycare Lady said that it was unusual. She said that she hadn’t even had cable in the room until she went on vacation, when her stand-in who took over daycare insisted on it for her own children. I didn’t care about before. I cared about NOW. Would it be a regular thing? I was assurred not.

But how can I know? My trust in her feels shattered.

I realize that this sounds melodramatic, but this is important to me. I tried to make that clear to her.

It brought home to me that 5 days a week, now, I am not raising my child. Someone else is. I have no real control over how he is treated and what he is taught. I can make my preferences clear, but I can’t KNOW.

What if he is turned into a tv fiend? What if his first word is “Dora!” or worse *shudder* “Max” or “Ruby”?

I realize that all children get exposed to the culture of tv eventually, and I thought I was resigned. I said as much to The Corn Fed Girl on her post about Those Moms (since I am one).

But he’s 11 months old.

It feels so early to let go, to give up my influence to others, to let someone else decide what my baby with his tender developing brain is exposed to.

I cried myself to sleep. 

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