[Humuhumu in her lime-green bumbo, wearing a white onesie adorned with lions, zebras and giraffes.]
So, I've had...a week. It's been a tumultuous experience. The hormones are subsiding. My hair has finally started to fall out. I lost none for almost six months and I was worried that my head was going to develop its own microclimate due to the size of my 'do, so this is a good thing. This relatively minor positive is offset by the rather large negative effect, which is that the mellowness conferred by my body forcing me into the immediacy of baby needs has also subsided. I'm aware of the passage of time again, and with that awareness comes the knowledge that I'm now over halfway through my maternity leave.
Humuhumu is becoming more physically independent. She can hold her head up and control her arms and legs. She is also awake for longer periods of time, during which her need for attention is no longer solely driven by the state of her stomach. It's difficult trying to figure out what will entertain her, and when I do discover something I find I have to do the same thing (crinkle a toy, make a whooshing noise, show her a picture a book) fifty times. Frankly, it's boring. A part of me looks forward to paying somebody else to do this. I fear mental atrophy.
Another part of me feels tremendously guilty about returning to work. We paid a visit to Humuhumu's nursery last week. It looks pretty fantastic. The staff and the children come from a variety of racial & ethnic backgrounds (important to me). They're tremendously accommodating - willing to help with weaning, to use cloth nappies and to set up a series of introductory visits in March & April before she starts in May. Humuhumu herself loved the visit, goggling at everyone. And yet it did nothing to assuage my unease. It's as if Dirk Gently's fridge has taken up residence in my head. I don't want to open the door for fear of being hit full in the face by a newborn guilt god.
There is no rational basis for this guilt. It will be good for Humuhumu to be with other children, so she doesn't grow up thinking herself the centre of the universe. She loves watching older children and learning from them. The nursery staff are trained and paid to help small children develop, and they can do it better than I can. Still, I feel trapped. If I didn't return to work, I would do myself a huge disservice. Because I am returning to work, I fear doing the same to Humuhumu.
I welcome suggestions for comfort reading for women who decide not to be full-time mums and still manage to raise healthy, happy children. I desire validation for my life choices.
tags:

From:
no subject
I know it's not at all easy no matter what, though, really. Much empathy. <3
(Also, she is adorable in her little bumbo! And always.)
From:
no subject
My sister went back to work after both of her kids, and they seem to be growing up fine and well adjusted, both seemed to do fine at nursery and neither seem to have emotional issues regarding attachment (they are now nearly 5 and 6 and a half and both doing well and enjoying school). My sister said that they needed and enjoyed the stimulation of nursery, and she needed her brain back!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
And ultimately, I think kids benefit from having happy, well-adjusted parents. If going back to work will make you happier and more well-adjusted, your kid will benefit from that. Period.
From:
no subject
This! I'm not a mother, though I do hear this sentiment echoed by a lot of my clients - as well as the reflection that there is no One True Way to be a good parent. Some find the concept of "good enough parenting" comforting when reflecting on their own choices as mothers (YMMV!). I thought the "concept of good enough parenting" and "components of good enough parenting" sections in this scholarly article were good descriptions (I have no comment yet on the rest of the article re. criminality though).
From:
no subject
http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/archives/2013/01/28/thoughts_on_guilt.html
"Generally speaking, I am someone who experiences a great deal of guilt. Now, mostly I don't mind. I think that a whole lot of the time guilt is there to make you feel bad about crappy things you've done so that you don't do them again. It's nature's little correction system, and I have high standards for myself that I fail to live up to now and again (often) and so it makes sense that I would feel guilty when I blow it. That lousy feeling is worth avoiding. Guilt, I believe, it mostly there to tell you when you're doing something bad or being a jerk. It's like a warning system that rings an alarm when I'm coming off the path.
I know that's not always true about guilt. When the kids were little and summer vacation would end, I would just about weep with joy. I would be a good, loving and committed mother all summer long. We'd go to the park and do crafts and have no TV and it would be beautiful for the kids, and I wouldn't resent it all (much) and then the first day of school would come and I'd drop the three of them off and then be the mum in the schoolyard wishing them a happy day and pretending like I was going to miss them... then trying to get all the other parents to high five me and hug the minute that the door to the school closed with them on the other side of it.
Always, while I was trying to kiss some random woman on the mouth in a pure human expression of happiness, there would be some mother - you know the one, she exists in every schoolyard in the world, the mum who says "Oh no. I hate the first day of school. I miss my children so much when they aren't with me" and it would hit me like a train. A train with a snowplow on the front of it. Guilt. A big crushing tsunami of guilt that I didn't love my children enough to want to be with them all the time. It would always take a few minutes for me to remember the truth. You're not a crap mum if you think it's really okay to enjoy a cup of coffee without someone throwing a lego in it. Without someone yelling "SHE'S LOOKING OUT MY WINDOW." I wasn't a bad mother because I wanted to pee by myself just once or twice a year. I'd put down the guilt and walk away. I could define good mothering for myself, and I had. That mum's feelings were hers, not mine. Guilt is a feeling you're supposed to experience when you cross your moral line, not the moral line of the lady down the street."
From:
no subject
http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/archives/2007/05/30/dear_amanda.html
Her first child had a propensity to climb to the top of their fridge at nine months, and "At three we had to move from our apartment to a house, since you had developed an intense determination to leap from the balcony. (You felt that only stupid children were injured in falls. Smart girls landed on the grass and were just fine. Since you were sure you were a smart girl....we moved.)"
From:
no subject
When the 2008/2009 crash hit, a fair number of people in my family's wider social circle lost their jobs. Families with two working parents got their financial status rocked, but the other spouse was able to keep the family afloat. It's the difference from falling from 100% of annual income to 50%, and falling from 100% to 0%. Families with one working parent had no financial safety net to cope with over six months or even a year and a half or more of unemployment.
There was one family in particular where the dad was a _______ (details obfuscated for a reason, but insert typical science-based job where layoffs are pretty much un-heard of) and the mom was a former ______ (job where the usual response to hearing that someone is a ______ is to inquire where their vacation home is located). When the dad lost his job, the problem was that twenty years ago the mom had become a full time mom after giving birth. They had several kids.
She'd spent twenty years out of the workforce and missed the entire computer revolution, not to mention had a huge gap in her working history. After her husband lost his job, which was pretty much the time their kids were due to begin college, the only work she could find after months of looking was the graveyard shift doing manual labor. After a year of her husband being unable to find work, they were relying on their in-laws for money for food for themselves and their children.
These were two people with advanced professional degrees, but due to one having a huge gap in her working history, they were unable to replace the dad's income. While the mom not only wanted, but needed to get back into the work force, there was absolutely nothing she could do to fix her work history and skills gap short of a time machine. Thus, someone with a ______ degree was working the graveyard shift for minimum wage, and as parents they were unable to buy food for their kids. If not for the retired grandparents having enough money to buy groceries for them, putting food on the table would have been a very uncertain thing.
I know it sounds a bit like a horror story, and I certainly would never say that going back into the workforce is the right thing for all women. Everybody's different, and every situation is different. I will say that, looking at the families that my families knew, that during that 2008/2009 period, families with two working parents had options that families with one working parent did not.
From:
no subject
Not a mum, but piping up to add to the chorus that a happy you is beneficial to humuhumu and Bloke too, not just you.
From:
no subject
♥
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
That's a very good point. Also, as
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject