Hats off to working mothers
I’m finishing up a week that has given me a new appreciation for mothers who work full time. I worked 50-hour weeks for many years, but that was before I had children and, as I’m finding out, it’s not the same.
What I’m talking about are those women who, for decades on end, are putting in full, hard weeks at work while also taking care of families and homes. Sure, I’ve been aware of the challenges of such a life, but only in the abstract. Now, five days into this new gig, I am getting a firsthand lesson in juggling. And failing.
It’s a part-time job, but this first week I put in a string of nine-hour days. I spent Sunday getting ready: I laid out my outfit, organized my purse, cleaned off my desk and went to the grocery store for the week’s meals. At bedtime, I set my alarm and fell asleep to thoughts of bigger paychecks and lots of grownup, professional career-woman days of wearing pajamas only for sleeping.
Monday morning I was up, dressed and out by 8. With my hair freshly washed and blow-dried, and with carefully applied makeup, I looked more or less like a version of my younger, career-girl self.
“This is the real Beth,” I thought. “Cute, stylish, well-groomed, punctual, organized, smart, competent.”
That lasted three hours.
By lunchtime, I was taking a red pen to that list of attributes. Something had to go. I’m a writer and communicator. Who really cares if I’m stylish? Isn’t well-groomed enough? Monday night, I ditched laying out an outfit and used the time to answer a few last emails.
Tuesday was crammed with meetings and phone calls. Dinnertime crash-landed into what felt like the middle of the day, but it actually was 5 p.m. and people were hungry. Unable to face all the fresh ingredients for cooking from scratch, I microwaved something else.
Wednesday morning, with time for clean hair or makeup but not both, I chose hair. Without carefully applied mascara and under-eye concealer, I now could scratch “cute” from my list.
Wednesday evening I was too tired for my nightly power walk. I considered getting one of those pedal-while-you-sit things to take into the university classroom to use while I teach.
Thursday morning I decided it takes too long for drip coffee to brew and considered switching to instant.
It was a work-from-home day. As I was walking out the door to fetch my daughter from track practice at 5:15, I looked down to realize I was still in my nightgown. I threw a jacket over my shoulders and got in the car.
We needed things from the grocery, but didn’t stop because I was wearing my nightie. So we had canned soup for dinner. As I washed and blow-dried my hair that night, my thoughts turned to crew cuts.
My first hard week is ending. Things will get easier as I learn the ropes. But in the face of the endless parade of work and life details, I’ve had to jettison some pieces of Beth, namely cute and stylish. I will do my best to hang onto well-groomed, but I’m not making any promises.
These days, I’m just hoping to stay punctual and organized, and to at least appear smart and competent.
Honestly, you working mothers, I don’t know how you’ve done this all these years.
Beth Dolinar can be reached at cootiej@aol.com.