Sometimes Motherhood is a Giant Blow-Out

When my husband and I first got married, we said that whoever made the most money would be the one to continue working once we had a kid. The other one would get to be a stay-at-home parent.

How cute we were.

The problem is that we continued living in New Jersey (instead of moving somewhere with a lower cost of living), and that meant that by the time we actually had a kid, it was clear that we both had to keep working in order to pay the bills.

I was okay with this arrangement. My company was letting me work from home twice a week, so I would at least have more time to spend with the baby instead of putting her in daycare full-time. (And paying for it.) She didn't have to start daycare until 6 months thanks to my husband taking paternity leave once my maternity leave ended, my parents visiting to babysit for two weeks, and my teacher husband having the summer off. 

But once my husband and I were both back to work, it took awhile to adjust to the new morning routine.

I have to get up at 5:00 a.m. in order to leave the house by 6:15 and make a 6:45 bus into New York. While my husband is in charge of daycare drop-off (and pick-up because I don't get home from work until 7:00 p.m., well after the 6:30 p.m. daycare closing time), I help get our daughter ready. And back then, that involved changing her diaper, getting her dressed, and setting her up with a bottle. All of that happened (and still happens) in a span of 15 minutes. That's all the time I have, otherwise I'll be late to work.

It had only been about two weeks since our new morning routine had started when we had a no-good, very-bad morning.

I wish I could just let her sleep! (2017)

I went into the baby's room to wake her up. (I usually still have to wake her up on work mornings. Is this what I can expect once she starts school??) I turned on the lamp and went to pick up the baby, and that's when I saw it.

POOP.

EVERYWHERE.

All over her pjs. All over her crib sheet. The CLEAN crib sheet that I had just put on her crib the previous night.

Needless to say, it took a little bit longer to get her ready because I had to clean her up first, and avoid getting any poop on my work clothes, and then once I got her cleaned and dressed, I put her in the living room on her activity mat to keep her occupied while I gave her crib sheet a quick hand-wash in the bathroom sink so that the poop didn't set.

Of course, the baby started crying, but I didn't have time to comfort her because I had to clean the crib sheet and go to work. And because I had to go to work, I didn't have time to do a load of her laundry before bedtime, so that night she ended up sleeping on her other crib sheet that had been in the dirty clothes hamper. (At least we had two, right?)

Luckily, my husband took over by the time I left, but I still cried all the way to the bus stop. I hated not having the time to comfort her myself because I had to go to work. I hated feeling rushed and frustrated because I had to go to work!

Me at work. Not all that bad.

Now, don't get me wrong. There are perks to being a working mom. Going to work three days a week does offer a break. I get to wear regular clothes. I get to put on makeup. I get to wear JEWELRY!

But it was my husband who was home when our daughter started rolling over and first stood up in her crib. It was my mother-in-law who discovered the baby's first teeth. Some nights I didn't get to say “good night” to my daughter before she went to bed because I was stuck in traffic.

Thankfully, we never had anymore overnight poopfests, but we also haven't won the lottery yet, so I am still a working mom. But just because I'm used to this whole “working mom” thing doesn't mean that the “mom guilt” or that torn feeling ever goes away.

If you're a working mom, how do you handle getting your kids ready in the morning or picking them up after work? I'd love to hear your thoughts, struggles, and solutions on being a working mom!