Hey little gals,
Did you know that ever since you were born, I’ve been devouring as many parenting articles as I can? I really believe that knowledge is power. It’s why I’m adamant about you practicing your reading every night. So since you were wee, I’ve been reading and reading. About sleep tactics. Good books for kids. Fun crafts. Milestones. How to handle tantrums. And parenting blogs on everything and anything to do with the incredible, tough, fulfilling, and maddening world of being a parent.
Sometimes, I read stuff that’s full of great advice. And then I’ll read another article that also seems to be full of good advice—but with the exact opposite viewpoint of the last article I read.
I can get confused.
Recently, I’ve been reading articles about why it’s good for moms to work from home. And articles about how important it is for you to see me working outside of the home. I read a letter about why a mom chose to work instead of being a stay at home mom. And I read another letter about why a mom chose to stay home and why they’re better for it.
Like I said, I’ve been reading a lot.
But through all of the opinions and all of the viewpoints, there’s one line that really stood out to me.
“I work because I want you and your brother to be proud of me.”
Can you tell who this line came from? Was it a mom who works outside of the house or one who works from home? Was it a mom who stays with her kids full time? Not so clear, is it?
Because, the thing is, we all consider what we do to be work. And it is.
The truth is, my little nuggets, we all want our children to be proud of us. We all love you so much that we’re somewhat amazed and startled at the intensity of our feelings. We all want the same things and we all do our best. No matter what path we choose.
And, I think, for the most part, we all want to hold on to who we are. Which is why we also try to define ourselves. Justify our choices. But I want you to know something important, girls. It has nothing to do with where I work or what I do. I want you to know me.
My sensitive side. My silly side. The way I get so excited for our family vacations. The things I talk about around the dinner table. The way I look first thing in the morning when you stand at my bedside to wake me up. The voices I make when I tell stories—or the way I close my eyes when I sing a song I really like.
And I want you to remember me. When you’re getting older and I annoy the crap out of you. When I’m gone for a few days for work. When you need a little boost of self-esteem.
In those moments, I want you to know—and remember—that I love you. That I sometimes get tears in my eyes just because of the things you say. That I’m so intensely proud of you I sometimes can’t believe this is my life. That I’m a feminist and I want you to be happy—whatever path you choose.
And whether I choose to go to an office every day, work from home, or spend all my time taking care of you—I’m your mom. And I’m so, so happy to be.
Just as all good moms are.
Just as it should be.
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