Mommy War Bootcamp
It used to be that if I wanted to make myself truly depressed, I needed to look no further than side two of "Ritual de lo Habitual" by Jane's Addiction (I call it side two because in my day we had something called a cassette tape, which was a wonderful little plastic music delivery system that would melt in a hot car... but that's an anthropology lesson for another post. On the CD it's track 6 and beyond). About three minutes in and you start to feel nice and mope-y. By the third song, you've let yourself have a good cry. By the end, you're talking yourself off the ledge, but in a therapeutic way.
These days, music doesn't have the same effect on me, but reading can swing my mood faster than a quad-shot red-eye extra whip mocha (i.e. very fast). One particularly greed-fueled New York magazine story or depressing post-war novel and I'm a wreck. And lately I've been reading a lot of blogosphere commentary on working vs. stay-at-home moms.
Remember when I said the Mommy Wars (TM) are bullshit? I admire the innocence of that righteous indignation, because now I'm not so sure. I feel as if I'm on the Mommy Wars' front line. But it's not me against other moms - although they can be plenty brutal and bitchy - it's me, half-heartedly working mom, against me, wannabe stay-at-homer. And the more I read, the more I beat myself up for being at work instead of home with Swaddlini.
Part of it is this stupid month. Our daycare inexplicably shuts down for the month of July. Fortunately or unfortunately, one of the women who works at the center has created a side business picking up the slack, watching some of the kids from her home, which is conveniently located on my block. This sounded like an ideal solution until I saw her apartment. It's small and cramped and it smells faintly of bug spray - a major change from the antiseptic and orderly school I'm used to. As soon as I walked in, I didn't want to leave him there. But I did. I decided I would figure out an alternative and have him out of there by the end of the day. But I didn't. He came home and seemed fine, happy even. So I let my concerns slide. And 28 days later, he's still there.
And I'm here at work, doing very little besides punching a virtual time clock. Oh, and self-flagellating, of course. Media is my weapon of choice. Because no matter which side you are on in the Mommy Wars, everything written about the argument begins with something like this:
Of course, you are ultimately the best person to take care of your child.
or
To be sure, no one can care for your child like his mother.
or
Come on, only an idiot would hand her child over to a stranger, no matter how clean the smock that stranger is wearing.
This must be what non-nursing moms feel like whenever they read: "Breast milk is best, but..." OK, we got it. Mommy and her boobs are paramount. They and a great SAT coach are all the child will ever really need. Gotcha. But is it always the case that the mom is best? What if she's is a confused and/or neglectful pill-popper? What if she's a malcontent bully hell-bent on being a bad influence? (But enough about my mother in law... Snap! Seriously folks, don't forget to tip your waitress.)
If you let other moms get into your head, you're a goner. I got an email from Baby Center, which is basically a shopping site that sends helpful weekly emails tracking your child's progress according to age, then tries to sell you everything you need that week. One of that week's features was a question from the community boards: I feel guilty about having someone else care for my child. Is that wrong? I clicked out of curiosity, and have been nauseated since. You would think that the only people responding to this question would be either a) moms who feel the same way or b) moms who have been through it and want to offer advice. But to think this way is to underestimate the level of asshole who spends her time proselytizing on the Baby Center message boards. In this case, the assholes in question were stay-at-home moms so appalled at the idea of a woman using a nanny or daycare in her stead that they could not remain silent. Sure, there were plenty of assholes ready to debate the other side of the argument, but in my fragile state those comments don't resonate as much the comments that tell me I'm a failure. Still, some of these women make no sense. For example:
No one could love your baby as much as you, not even your own mother.
OK. This is reasonable. I agree. But does my husband count? He really loves our baby. And my mom is pretty crazy for him too. But, yes. I generally agree.
No one can care for your baby like you can, not even your own mother.
Hmmm. I'm not so sure about this. My mom really seems to have the hang of the mothering thing. She may not beat me in a baby-caring competition, but she'd at least come in a close second. And she's an amateur. A professional child rearer could very well kick my ass - especially when you consider that I've managed to let Swaddlini fall off the bed three times in his short life. I'm not saying that makes me a bad mom (although I'm sure someone out there is ready to), I'm just saying that it took me three times to learn an important lesson about about why we don't leave babies alone on the bed, even for a second. An old pro doesn't need to relearn these things.
Allowing someone else to care for your baby is equivalent to allowing someone else to care for your husband, and no one wants that.
This threw me. Particularly because the mom who posted it claimed to have two advanced degrees (she did so to prove a point - unlike us money-grubbing mommy whores with just one bachelor's degree, she is supremely over-educated and still won't get a job!), and because several others posted to say that this argument swayed them to rethink the issue. Not me. I don't take care of my husband in the same way I take care of my child. OK, sometimes I do, but I'd hire someone to take those duties off my hands in a second. And if I couldn't do them and couldn't afford to hire someone, my husband is capable of taking care of himself. If Dr. Idiot's definition of "caring for" implies other "wifely duties" ... please. As unbelievable as it may sound, I can manage to handle that and still hold down a job. I know, you'll say this is impossible. I must be a superwoman. But I have faith that other mothers are just as capable.
Furthermore, shouldn't my husband feel just as guilty about having to go off to work? Why is the woman's decision a moral imperative while the man's is hardly a minor consideration?
And, by the way, how do such spectacular moms have so much time to scream at the Internets?
Reeling from my run in with Baby Center, I picked up a recent copy of New York with the cover story about UrbanBaby.com. Don't do this. I've never been to UrbanBaby, and now I really don't want to visit. But according to the article, the NYC comment boards are alive with competitive mommies, and it's not for the tame. Complain there that you feel guilty about having to go back to work, and you'll get reamed not for sacrificing your baby's well-being, but for doing so for a mere $150k salary. Apparently these mommies won't get out of bed for less than $5 million in trust, and even that is a shameful admission (the interest just doesn't cut it when you are living on a tight $35k monthly budget, not including school costs). On the bright side, these same mommies seem to be living empty, miserable lives with gay and/or cheating husbands, catty friends and ugly children (the article didn't mention the ugly kids, but I'm sure it's true). Still, it's small consolation for this money-grubbing bachelorette of the arts, who is whoring decisions hinge on far less than $150k.
So I have come up with a few solutions. One is to go off the grid and move to Michigan (which is not necessarily grid-less, I know, but it and Vermont are as close as I'm going to get in a blue state, plus I family there). Another is to avoid all media, but that may prove difficult considering my profession. For now, my plan is to become a work-from-home-mom within the next couple of months. Sure, it will be tough giving up the security of a full-time job and regular paychecks. But just think of the strategic advantage: A working mom who doesn't let anyone else near her child. I'll be like the Switzerland of the Mommy Wars. Or maybe the General Patton? I'm not sure. I'm still pretty new at this. But I can't wait to hit the comment boards!
These days, music doesn't have the same effect on me, but reading can swing my mood faster than a quad-shot red-eye extra whip mocha (i.e. very fast). One particularly greed-fueled New York magazine story or depressing post-war novel and I'm a wreck. And lately I've been reading a lot of blogosphere commentary on working vs. stay-at-home moms.
Remember when I said the Mommy Wars (TM) are bullshit? I admire the innocence of that righteous indignation, because now I'm not so sure. I feel as if I'm on the Mommy Wars' front line. But it's not me against other moms - although they can be plenty brutal and bitchy - it's me, half-heartedly working mom, against me, wannabe stay-at-homer. And the more I read, the more I beat myself up for being at work instead of home with Swaddlini.
Part of it is this stupid month. Our daycare inexplicably shuts down for the month of July. Fortunately or unfortunately, one of the women who works at the center has created a side business picking up the slack, watching some of the kids from her home, which is conveniently located on my block. This sounded like an ideal solution until I saw her apartment. It's small and cramped and it smells faintly of bug spray - a major change from the antiseptic and orderly school I'm used to. As soon as I walked in, I didn't want to leave him there. But I did. I decided I would figure out an alternative and have him out of there by the end of the day. But I didn't. He came home and seemed fine, happy even. So I let my concerns slide. And 28 days later, he's still there.
And I'm here at work, doing very little besides punching a virtual time clock. Oh, and self-flagellating, of course. Media is my weapon of choice. Because no matter which side you are on in the Mommy Wars, everything written about the argument begins with something like this:
Of course, you are ultimately the best person to take care of your child.
or
To be sure, no one can care for your child like his mother.
or
Come on, only an idiot would hand her child over to a stranger, no matter how clean the smock that stranger is wearing.
This must be what non-nursing moms feel like whenever they read: "Breast milk is best, but..." OK, we got it. Mommy and her boobs are paramount. They and a great SAT coach are all the child will ever really need. Gotcha. But is it always the case that the mom is best? What if she's is a confused and/or neglectful pill-popper? What if she's a malcontent bully hell-bent on being a bad influence? (But enough about my mother in law... Snap! Seriously folks, don't forget to tip your waitress.)
If you let other moms get into your head, you're a goner. I got an email from Baby Center, which is basically a shopping site that sends helpful weekly emails tracking your child's progress according to age, then tries to sell you everything you need that week. One of that week's features was a question from the community boards: I feel guilty about having someone else care for my child. Is that wrong? I clicked out of curiosity, and have been nauseated since. You would think that the only people responding to this question would be either a) moms who feel the same way or b) moms who have been through it and want to offer advice. But to think this way is to underestimate the level of asshole who spends her time proselytizing on the Baby Center message boards. In this case, the assholes in question were stay-at-home moms so appalled at the idea of a woman using a nanny or daycare in her stead that they could not remain silent. Sure, there were plenty of assholes ready to debate the other side of the argument, but in my fragile state those comments don't resonate as much the comments that tell me I'm a failure. Still, some of these women make no sense. For example:
No one could love your baby as much as you, not even your own mother.
OK. This is reasonable. I agree. But does my husband count? He really loves our baby. And my mom is pretty crazy for him too. But, yes. I generally agree.
No one can care for your baby like you can, not even your own mother.
Hmmm. I'm not so sure about this. My mom really seems to have the hang of the mothering thing. She may not beat me in a baby-caring competition, but she'd at least come in a close second. And she's an amateur. A professional child rearer could very well kick my ass - especially when you consider that I've managed to let Swaddlini fall off the bed three times in his short life. I'm not saying that makes me a bad mom (although I'm sure someone out there is ready to), I'm just saying that it took me three times to learn an important lesson about about why we don't leave babies alone on the bed, even for a second. An old pro doesn't need to relearn these things.
Allowing someone else to care for your baby is equivalent to allowing someone else to care for your husband, and no one wants that.
This threw me. Particularly because the mom who posted it claimed to have two advanced degrees (she did so to prove a point - unlike us money-grubbing mommy whores with just one bachelor's degree, she is supremely over-educated and still won't get a job!), and because several others posted to say that this argument swayed them to rethink the issue. Not me. I don't take care of my husband in the same way I take care of my child. OK, sometimes I do, but I'd hire someone to take those duties off my hands in a second. And if I couldn't do them and couldn't afford to hire someone, my husband is capable of taking care of himself. If Dr. Idiot's definition of "caring for" implies other "wifely duties" ... please. As unbelievable as it may sound, I can manage to handle that and still hold down a job. I know, you'll say this is impossible. I must be a superwoman. But I have faith that other mothers are just as capable.
Furthermore, shouldn't my husband feel just as guilty about having to go off to work? Why is the woman's decision a moral imperative while the man's is hardly a minor consideration?
And, by the way, how do such spectacular moms have so much time to scream at the Internets?
Reeling from my run in with Baby Center, I picked up a recent copy of New York with the cover story about UrbanBaby.com. Don't do this. I've never been to UrbanBaby, and now I really don't want to visit. But according to the article, the NYC comment boards are alive with competitive mommies, and it's not for the tame. Complain there that you feel guilty about having to go back to work, and you'll get reamed not for sacrificing your baby's well-being, but for doing so for a mere $150k salary. Apparently these mommies won't get out of bed for less than $5 million in trust, and even that is a shameful admission (the interest just doesn't cut it when you are living on a tight $35k monthly budget, not including school costs). On the bright side, these same mommies seem to be living empty, miserable lives with gay and/or cheating husbands, catty friends and ugly children (the article didn't mention the ugly kids, but I'm sure it's true). Still, it's small consolation for this money-grubbing bachelorette of the arts, who is whoring decisions hinge on far less than $150k.
So I have come up with a few solutions. One is to go off the grid and move to Michigan (which is not necessarily grid-less, I know, but it and Vermont are as close as I'm going to get in a blue state, plus I family there). Another is to avoid all media, but that may prove difficult considering my profession. For now, my plan is to become a work-from-home-mom within the next couple of months. Sure, it will be tough giving up the security of a full-time job and regular paychecks. But just think of the strategic advantage: A working mom who doesn't let anyone else near her child. I'll be like the Switzerland of the Mommy Wars. Or maybe the General Patton? I'm not sure. I'm still pretty new at this. But I can't wait to hit the comment boards!
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