I don't know when it happened. Nor was I ready for it. But last weekend, on his four-week birthday, I looked down and suddenly noticed how big his head was. The neck that was once so thin and fragile has thickened and now supports his head unassisted more often than not. And his feet reach the very end of the pajamas that, just weeks before, swallowed his tiny body whole.
I knew, of course, that this would happen. That I would continually marvel at the passing of time as my child grows and develops through the years. But the first few weeks with Psite kept him in some sort of unnatural state of suspended animation. While we struggled to nourish him, his body changed little. And I became accustomed to his miniature features and clumsy movements. All that has changed. Each day he grows more and more into a little person.
And so begins my struggle as a "working mom". I have not yet completely returned to work, but have been back part time each day and continue to work a bit from home. Since last weekend, I've noticed that preparing to leave the house is now often accomanied by little twinges of sadness and guilt. I think to myself, "He changes so much each day, surely I will miss something important." But then the rational person in me offers a gentle reminder that over 80% of Psite's time is spent sleeping, and that can be like watching paint dry. It's enough to get me out the door and on my way to campus, but not enough to keep me from wondering like I never have before. This is just the beginning of learning how to juggle the responsibilities of motherhood in addition to being "the bread winner", a wife, and heaven forbid, my own person. Am I really cut out for this?
Each fall I barely make it through the gauntlet of teaching a large-lecture course without berating myself for lack of balance. I treat fall semester like a marathon, a long tiring race that requires all of my focus, strong will, and self-sacrifice. Certainly I will have to lower my standards in certain aspects of my life (how often does one really need to clean a bathroom anyway?), but there are some things that are -- or at least seem to be -- completely inflexible. I already find myself resenting aspects of my job that used to just be minor nuisances (impromptu faculty meetings late in the afternoon, committee work, demanding students, unfair evaluation procedures) because they threaten the most precious commodity we have -- time.
With all of that said, I have to admit that once I get to campus and turn on my computer, I remember all the things I love about my work. I adore research, enjoy sparring with colleagues as we collaborate on projects, and feel proud as my students grow as scholars. I would never make it as a full-time, stay-at-home mom -- I would certainly grow to resent my child and husband. And I will certainly grow to hate my job if I let it consume every aspect of my life as well.
So let this post be a reminder to my future self. Don't just strive for balance, advocate for it, demand it, fight for it. You (and your family, friends, colleagues, and students) will thank you for it!
