Sometimes I Can't Figure Out How I Got Here

This week has been one of those weeks. After the high drama of Sadie learning to swim last week, this week had a more normal schedule. Sadie's been in a wonderful ballet camp every day from 9-12 so our mornings are more like they were when she was in preschool, and we get motivated and get going earlier.  We are back in our normal routine.  Well, that assumes that anything is "normal" these days.

Yesterday I was talking to a woman who works at my old firm. While there, I was on the recruiting committee and this woman came through as a summer associate sometime back when I was a senior associate and then a new partner. She was clearly a top recruit. She had passion for an area of the law, and she was an extremely hard worker and a great team player. She also had a great personality, very social, loved animals, loved running and all sports. I felt like I was looking in the mirror to my slightly younger (and blonder) version.  Sometime after I had Sadie, she had her first child, a son. And since then, she has also had a second son.  Before we had children, we had a lot of fun cocktail party chats, or talks about our mutual passion for animals or sports.

But yesterday, in our short catch up call, we both were echoing the same sentiment. How did our life get to where it is?  And didn't we think it was going to be easier?

Both of us have dear husbands who are hugely committed to large tasks right now that take them outside of our nuclear families.  Hers is running for political office. And mine is deeply entrenched in a combined care giving and estate advisor role for his parents, balancing multiple, conflicting and highly emotional views every night it seems.  Both my friend and I were saying that as the wife, mom, primary caregiver of young children, and employee -- we can't seem to get our own bearings straight.  And yet, we aren't allowed to fail.  We barely are allowed to rest, let alone fail. 

No one in their right mind wouldn't support our husbands in the external roles that they have. Public service is admirable. And my husband's care for his parents -- I would want to do the same for my own, and hope that Sadie will do it for us one day. But there is someone in the background holding the daily life together. And that job is exhausting.

Mark and I are getting ready to celebrate our 7th anniversary this weekend. My wonderful Aunt Claudia sent us a anniversary card a few weeks ago that has been propped up on our island since it arrived. She wrote something like "Lucky 7, what a year it will be!" inside.

Humph, I tend to think when I see the card every day.  I adore my husband, don't get me wrong. Someone asked me the other day if, knowing what I know now, I would do it all over again, and without hesitation, yes!  I loved getting married to Mark, I can still feel the excitement of that day. And without hesitation, I love the experience of motherhood to the daughter that my husband gave me. All the sleepless nights and all the daily drama has been worth it.  My husband is a character, and I knew his personality for nine years before we married.  I love the person that he is, without hesitation.  With less, I would be bored.

But it is hard. It is far more difficult balancing roles than I thought it would be. I watched women "balance" working and motherhood for my early career and my conclusion now is that they did a superb job of hiding the anxiety that seems to overcome a lot of my days. At my early stages of motherhood, I wondered if they had some secret remedy that they would share with me that would make this any easier. Even last year, I thought that part-time work was the answer... balance would come easier when I had more time with Sadie and less time at work.  But it is funny -- this year it is not the job that has created the stress, it is all the other stuff. And less time at work means more time at all the other stuff.

Everything has consequences now, and nothing has easy answers. Mark's parent's situation is so very difficult, but far from black and white. And in the meantime, Sadie is the most skilled observer, asking the hard questions. Reacting to the stress. Wanting reassurance, and yet wanting to fly herself.  Next Fall we will be making decisions about which school will be best for her from K-12th grade. While Mark deals with so many external issues right now, the school research has become my focus. No decision is easy, or clear.

Those women who I used to think made motherhood look easy, do they write notes on their hands daily, pay their estimated taxes a day late, determine that they could pass another day without a shower without seriously offending someone, and decide that indeed, eating bag of goldfish while cleaning up the kitchen at night does make you feel better?  Because that is my life. Part time or not, the stresses of each of the roles just do not get easier.

Weeks, months, and now years have gone by since Mark and I got married and started this journey together.  I didn't see how difficult and conflicting this role would be. How I can be the mom that my daughter tells with blind determination that she hates my outfit in the morning, and also calls at 3 pm tearfully telling me that she loves me so much and begging me to come home early. How I am the wife that tells my husband I love him and then watches him on the phone every night and wants to take a frying pan to his head and say "WHO CARES!! This is your daughter, here and now, relish in her and get off the phone!"  How I get to be the mother than goes to Martin's at 9:45 at night to return two containers of milk that was dated July 8th but was clearly sour when we opened it yesterday, then wonder what would happen if I just turned right instead of left out of the parking lot, and drove away, far away, instead of returning home. Would they miss me? Would she brush her teeth instead of me chasing her as she slithers down the hall like a snake every night? Would my husband grab me in an embrace and kiss me like he did before we were married and promise to get off the phone, get off the computer, put away the crossword, and just talk to me?

Sometimes I get tired, very tired, of holding all the pieces together. The roles exhaust me. I hate hearing my own voice count 1-2-3 over and over and over again in the bedtime routine, or asking Mark the same question over and over again while he focuses on the episode of  Criminal Intent. Sure TV is an escape. But I am not allowed an escape, I want to plead. I just read the Parent's Magazine article about the young child who had her lower intestine pulled out by the drain of a baby pool -- isn't this issue more important right now? Don't you want to talk about it, don't you want to call our pool, don't you want to inspect the drains? Aren't you scared, so very scared, that this could be us.  Aren't you terrified like I am that we won't be able to protect her every minute of every day for the rest of her life?  How come you are not scared?  Maybe because you know that I am? That I will monitor things. Because I always do.

I got ready to go to bed, but before I did, I went out to get the recycling container and looked up at the moon. It was huge, like a big ripe honeydew melon just perched atop the trees at the end of our street. For a moment as I was watching it, I wondered if I should wake Sadie up to see it. She would think it was neat, it was so big and bright. She would want to fly there. She would want me to promise that we could, and we would be safe in doing so. We are a team these days, and it would be an adventure, Mommy and Sadie flying to the moon.

But instead I went inside to get Mark and brought him out to see it. And we looked at it together and marveled in it. No easy answers came to us as we were there. The problems and tasks before us, insurmountable as they appear, are still there. But for a few moments we were the team of Mark and Jill again. It doesn't happen often. But it happens enough to remind me of something remarkable.