Earlier I noted that the transitions from dealing with candid and innocent (really, sometimes more savvy than I) children to political and scheming adults were some of the most challenging in my divided life. This continues as I am less in the home world and more in the work world, and still I am disappointed in the latter.
As I re-entered the 'career' track in earnest when my children were well in school (youngest in middle school), I soon realized my innocent approach to my career that had served me well in my part-time work life was not going to cut it in the corporate world. Doing my job well, being dedicated to performing at a consistently high level and working collaboratively with my colleagues was just not enough. I was advised by a (female) colleague, who I did not so much respect for her work as I marveled at her ladder climbing ability, that (1) my twinsets had to go (I love ‘em because they are really comfortable and practical), (2) a blazer – always- is key to being perceived as a professional (think lab coat, maybe?) and (3) a mentor was essential. Well that isn’t typically my way (not a true non-conformist, but more a pragmatist); I like the comfort of sweaters, can take or leave a blazer and formal mentors was not really my thing, but as a pragmatist, in many the adaptation was inevitable. I just did not expect the experience to be quite so transformational.
I ditched the sweaters, stocked up on blazers and suit separates and quite literally overnight, things changed. Silly but true. I hoped it wasn’t just the blazers, but what I saw change was the perception from others that I was now worth listening to (ridiculous, I know).
Next, I sought a mentor. Well, first I created a mentoring program (always the process driver), pitched that to senior management and kicked off a corporate-wide initiative (organization - it’s what I do….it’s what I live for) while I ‘piloted’ the program myself with a great, great guy whom we’ll call Saul. I had worked with him, but not for him, and respected his approach and lack of political slant. Long and short, it was a fantastic experience for me and effectively identified my ‘niche’ that I would later use to meld my career with my love of children/family to influence the way in which drug development impacts children. So blazers and mentors work and I was reminded that I can learn something from almost everyone (heck, if I can learn the insanity of corporal punishment from a 2 year old, the value of just sitting close to someone you love, in silence, from an infant and the sheer pleasure in a robust game of Pooh sticks from a 4 year old, this should have been obvious).
Fast forward to my next career leap, and with interest to expand my mentoring network, I joined a group program at my new company. In this program, I am introduced to David (for obvi reasons, names have been changed to protect me from lawsuits). David’s background is similar to mine in educational focus but his career goals brought him to the commercial side of the business. Well, in retrospect, maybe it was not his goals, but his unique personal style. After meeting with him in group and individually, I begin to get a feel for the man and I am nearly repulsed. He is arrogant, bigoted, chauvinistic and demeaning. But otherwise, he can be quite pleasant.
At the most recent conversation, I am actually stunned (which is not so easy for me, given my life experiences). This man has told a group of corporate women (he has already noted that he is disappointed that there are no men in the group…good thing his wife was sensible enough to have given him only sons) who have sought his career advice in working within the corporate structure to excel, that our efforts are admirable, but clearly our husbands’ careers are likely more important. He goes so far as to say that the executive women he knows all have either subservient husbands or have been successful before marrying equally successful men (like himself) and had the good sense not to have children.
Now, I’m not so naïve as to think I could devote a mere 40 hrs a week to my career and expect to be an executive. But, I have made the conscious choice to marry, have a family, raise my family and then re-embark on my career. And I expect I can do this and still achieve the ultimate career success that I desire, in spite of having taken a road, though more often traveled (I believe) than is often acknowledged, is not so socially popular.
Only time will tell actually how successful I will be in this, or any, career. I am confident that, having done this my way (with lots of advice, good, questionable and sometimes poor- which may have been the most useful), at the end of this I will hold my head high and be proud of what I have accomplished and the path I have taken.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Saturday, January 3, 2009
A bit more on the aunts, whom I loved dearly and think of often.
As the years rolled along, my children were growing, my schooling progressing, I had the joy of getting to know my elderly aunts as more than doting, childless relatives with a charming brogue, a fascinating single lifestyle in the world’s most exciting city and a checkbook for birthdays. I would visit more often and realized rather quickly they were both aging more rapidly and changing into people in need of more regular assistance. They were physically quite well, but mentally in the twilight of brilliant lives. A neighbor from the old sod was available to check in daily and assure they were maintaining the basic activities of daily living (and to give me a call if not). She was a God send. I did not realize how much so until one Sunday morning when she called, concerned, when she had not been able to reach them the evening before or early this morning.
A bit more than concerned, I called my brother who had a key and lived in the city. He checked the apartment and found it empty. I called a cousin in Jersey City to see if she had heard from them, but no luck. We next began calling hospitals and police stations in Manhattan as we headed for their neighborhood. A few hours later, we hit paydirt. They had been hospitalized the evening before (when Elizabeth had become aggressive after an evening’s libations, and Mary called 911 for assistance). Both were taken to a local ER and after Elizabeth was admitted, Mary collapsed…so there they both stayed. Upon our arrival, it clear this was a sentinel event for a higher level of care or assistance as they clearly needed 24/7 assistance.
And now started the clock…and the dance begins. The hospital, after initial evaluations (and Elizabeth biting more than one aide), announced both must be discharged. I balked, explaining we could not return them to their apartment safely and rooms in our choice of assisted living facilities (selfishly near my home and work) would not be available for 2 more days. After daily trips to the hospital in NY, I gave the social worker numbers where I knew I would not be and conveniently returned her calls after hours… until Friday evening (~5p). When we connected, I gambled she would not stay to ensure discharge occurred that evening and instead, would dump the business to the weekend coverage (which she did).
On Saturday, my brother rescued them (or the hospital?) and shepherded my aunts to our home in the ‘burbs. There, after a lovely lunch, we brought them to a beautiful facility (thank you for a successful high school friend with insights to start a business I would later need) where I had brought some of their things and furniture and began the move-in process. A new chapter of a complicated story.
A bit more than concerned, I called my brother who had a key and lived in the city. He checked the apartment and found it empty. I called a cousin in Jersey City to see if she had heard from them, but no luck. We next began calling hospitals and police stations in Manhattan as we headed for their neighborhood. A few hours later, we hit paydirt. They had been hospitalized the evening before (when Elizabeth had become aggressive after an evening’s libations, and Mary called 911 for assistance). Both were taken to a local ER and after Elizabeth was admitted, Mary collapsed…so there they both stayed. Upon our arrival, it clear this was a sentinel event for a higher level of care or assistance as they clearly needed 24/7 assistance.
And now started the clock…and the dance begins. The hospital, after initial evaluations (and Elizabeth biting more than one aide), announced both must be discharged. I balked, explaining we could not return them to their apartment safely and rooms in our choice of assisted living facilities (selfishly near my home and work) would not be available for 2 more days. After daily trips to the hospital in NY, I gave the social worker numbers where I knew I would not be and conveniently returned her calls after hours… until Friday evening (~5p). When we connected, I gambled she would not stay to ensure discharge occurred that evening and instead, would dump the business to the weekend coverage (which she did).
On Saturday, my brother rescued them (or the hospital?) and shepherded my aunts to our home in the ‘burbs. There, after a lovely lunch, we brought them to a beautiful facility (thank you for a successful high school friend with insights to start a business I would later need) where I had brought some of their things and furniture and began the move-in process. A new chapter of a complicated story.
Of convenient timing….opportunities afforded by a flexible work schedule
One of the many benefits of being a SAHM was the flexibility of my day. This led quite often to opportunities to be connected to friends and family in unique and very meaningful ways.
Not the least of these was being close enough to my elderly aunts to realize things were declining more quickly than the casual observer may have noted. But, stoic as their immigrants roots required, neither would ask for help or raise a flag of frailty. Instead, as my visits became more regular and routine, I began to quickly note the changes know to many who care for the elderly: housekeeping spotty (dishes piled high where they never were before), few new purchases (not sure if this was because money handling or shopping was just a chore), clothing looking more and more shabby (eyesight worsening and attention to these details failing), retention of even the most basic of junk mail (as potentially important, but unable to be sure) and it goes on and on…
I started to slowly take on some responsibility (sending Christmas cards, paying rent and other regular accounts), visiting doctors and local merchants with them (to check them out but also to let them know someone else was involved) and just learning. Among my missions was to get their affairs in order, as neither ever married and had few relatives to rely upon.
One of the more enlightening conversations with these two aunts, who emigrated to the US in the 1950s and lived together in the same apartment in Manhattan for more than 40 years (a rent controlled haven) – perfect instance of the need for an ‘alternative family’ acknowledgment, was about their choice of final resting place. Having buried some siblings here in the US and others back ‘home’, I thought this was a good starting place for the Last Wills, Living Wills, etc conversation (as those of you with relatives of this generation will attest, these conversations, if they occur at all, are uncomfortable at best.
In unison, the elder of my father’s living sisters, let’s call her Mary, more meek and accommodating, and her younger sister, Elizabeth, the more defiant and definitely more challenging to please, both provided unique answers: “Gate of Heaven” (NYC)/ “Home in Ireland …of course”.
Humm… I sputtered. Clearly we needed to discuss.
Long and short of it, they agreed, they’d prefer to be in Ireland, their place of birth to which they had returned annually for many summers (much more later….think pre-9/11 and arriving at JFK with 10 min to spare for a transatlantic flight…and boarding!). Although, they also agreed, it was less important where than that they be together. I concurred and agreed we’d not have to speak of this again.
So began my intimate journey with Mary and Elizabeth and their final years. It was a source of great honor for me to be able to be with them during these difficult and exciting years, but also a significant strain that I cannot imagine combining with a challenging career, such as the one I enjoy now. So for all of us, this was a blessing to be together and available for each other.
Not the least of these was being close enough to my elderly aunts to realize things were declining more quickly than the casual observer may have noted. But, stoic as their immigrants roots required, neither would ask for help or raise a flag of frailty. Instead, as my visits became more regular and routine, I began to quickly note the changes know to many who care for the elderly: housekeeping spotty (dishes piled high where they never were before), few new purchases (not sure if this was because money handling or shopping was just a chore), clothing looking more and more shabby (eyesight worsening and attention to these details failing), retention of even the most basic of junk mail (as potentially important, but unable to be sure) and it goes on and on…
I started to slowly take on some responsibility (sending Christmas cards, paying rent and other regular accounts), visiting doctors and local merchants with them (to check them out but also to let them know someone else was involved) and just learning. Among my missions was to get their affairs in order, as neither ever married and had few relatives to rely upon.
One of the more enlightening conversations with these two aunts, who emigrated to the US in the 1950s and lived together in the same apartment in Manhattan for more than 40 years (a rent controlled haven) – perfect instance of the need for an ‘alternative family’ acknowledgment, was about their choice of final resting place. Having buried some siblings here in the US and others back ‘home’, I thought this was a good starting place for the Last Wills, Living Wills, etc conversation (as those of you with relatives of this generation will attest, these conversations, if they occur at all, are uncomfortable at best.
In unison, the elder of my father’s living sisters, let’s call her Mary, more meek and accommodating, and her younger sister, Elizabeth, the more defiant and definitely more challenging to please, both provided unique answers: “Gate of Heaven” (NYC)/ “Home in Ireland …of course”.
Humm… I sputtered. Clearly we needed to discuss.
Long and short of it, they agreed, they’d prefer to be in Ireland, their place of birth to which they had returned annually for many summers (much more later….think pre-9/11 and arriving at JFK with 10 min to spare for a transatlantic flight…and boarding!). Although, they also agreed, it was less important where than that they be together. I concurred and agreed we’d not have to speak of this again.
So began my intimate journey with Mary and Elizabeth and their final years. It was a source of great honor for me to be able to be with them during these difficult and exciting years, but also a significant strain that I cannot imagine combining with a challenging career, such as the one I enjoy now. So for all of us, this was a blessing to be together and available for each other.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Not really part of the club
While I may have been a stay at home mom (SAHM), I also confess to not being an official member of the club. I continued to work after my children were born, by choice and necessity. I chose to continue to work as much as reasonable to keep current in my field and the $$ was definitely needed as we progressed from 2 virtually equivalent incomes to one. Still, my work outside of the home was part-time (technically) and thus, I was not really a genuine SAHM and definitely not a working mom (WM)…I languished in between the two worlds…which was OK but a little weird.
Though not part of the SAHM club, I occasionally was invited to some functions (Tupperware parties, Pampered Chef, etc) but never to the Wednesday lunch club (frown) because I worked on Wednesdays, once my youngest child was in pre-school. I don’t really know how my colleagues at the PTO viewed me, but that was also OK. I chose to be at home primarily to be there for my children and have never been a huge fan of situational friends (those you were friends with only because you happened to be forced together around a common goal – a successful Penny Sale, or a rockin’ middle school dance experience. Ps. Even then I bucked the tide when we planned a small (no limos, no dates, no flowers) 8th grade dance and provided the Field Day with Pathmark ice pops (though I confess to the occasional runs to the Italian Ice store to buy crates of ice and scoop for a special end of the year treat.) But we were always about keeping the small town experience real and keeping our children young for as long as possible.
Most of my SAHM peers were like minded, though there were a few who always pushed that envelope – whether it was ‘my kid's more over-scheduled than yours’, or ‘my kid made high honor roll, how about yours?’ I tried to keep perspective. We fought video games and the evil internet as long as possible. [Yes, there were children raised with neither – gasp. I do recall a conversation with my son sometime in the mid 90s when I declared I didn’t think I’d ever have to use email (as I now ‘blog’, the shame)]. I also recall declaring my kids would not have a TV in their rooms, much less a computer (honestly, about 85% of this decision was because we could barely afford one decent TV never mind 4, but rooted in the belief that my childhood memories of 7 of us together watching the same show brought us about as close as seven individual humans could be)…and when they reached 16, the big deal was the potential for a TV in their bedrooms.
Summers, we actually slept in and did ‘nothing’. Again, some of this was because we couldn’t afford nice camps or a summer house, but we definitely knew every free air-conditioned place in the tri-state area. The library was best, museums are good, malls an option, movies were a reasonably priced treat and bowling with bumpers….the best!
Yes, my kids suffered the innocence of their parents, but we also suffered the novelty of being a bit different. My husband and I grew up in very middle (maybe lower middle class) homes where family values of religion, honestly and charity were central. We wanted this to be true for our children too. No matter what you have, you should give and be true to yourself. And as far as we have come as a society, we have lost much of this basic sense. My husband and I worked hard to be sure our children were afforded the preservation of their child-like innocence as long as possible. While it probably wasn’t as long as we thought, I hope it was long enough and special enough because of the choices we made. We may not have had the nicest cars, the best furniture (or sometimes even furniture), surely not the nicest clothes (but they were always clean), or the latest ‘stuff’, but we knew we had each other, unconditionally. I think that’s a good start, for anyone, and most importantly for a child.
Though not part of the SAHM club, I occasionally was invited to some functions (Tupperware parties, Pampered Chef, etc) but never to the Wednesday lunch club (frown) because I worked on Wednesdays, once my youngest child was in pre-school. I don’t really know how my colleagues at the PTO viewed me, but that was also OK. I chose to be at home primarily to be there for my children and have never been a huge fan of situational friends (those you were friends with only because you happened to be forced together around a common goal – a successful Penny Sale, or a rockin’ middle school dance experience. Ps. Even then I bucked the tide when we planned a small (no limos, no dates, no flowers) 8th grade dance and provided the Field Day with Pathmark ice pops (though I confess to the occasional runs to the Italian Ice store to buy crates of ice and scoop for a special end of the year treat.) But we were always about keeping the small town experience real and keeping our children young for as long as possible.
Most of my SAHM peers were like minded, though there were a few who always pushed that envelope – whether it was ‘my kid's more over-scheduled than yours’, or ‘my kid made high honor roll, how about yours?’ I tried to keep perspective. We fought video games and the evil internet as long as possible. [Yes, there were children raised with neither – gasp. I do recall a conversation with my son sometime in the mid 90s when I declared I didn’t think I’d ever have to use email (as I now ‘blog’, the shame)]. I also recall declaring my kids would not have a TV in their rooms, much less a computer (honestly, about 85% of this decision was because we could barely afford one decent TV never mind 4, but rooted in the belief that my childhood memories of 7 of us together watching the same show brought us about as close as seven individual humans could be)…and when they reached 16, the big deal was the potential for a TV in their bedrooms.
Summers, we actually slept in and did ‘nothing’. Again, some of this was because we couldn’t afford nice camps or a summer house, but we definitely knew every free air-conditioned place in the tri-state area. The library was best, museums are good, malls an option, movies were a reasonably priced treat and bowling with bumpers….the best!
Yes, my kids suffered the innocence of their parents, but we also suffered the novelty of being a bit different. My husband and I grew up in very middle (maybe lower middle class) homes where family values of religion, honestly and charity were central. We wanted this to be true for our children too. No matter what you have, you should give and be true to yourself. And as far as we have come as a society, we have lost much of this basic sense. My husband and I worked hard to be sure our children were afforded the preservation of their child-like innocence as long as possible. While it probably wasn’t as long as we thought, I hope it was long enough and special enough because of the choices we made. We may not have had the nicest cars, the best furniture (or sometimes even furniture), surely not the nicest clothes (but they were always clean), or the latest ‘stuff’, but we knew we had each other, unconditionally. I think that’s a good start, for anyone, and most importantly for a child.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Phase 2 and 3 of my formal education
As promised more on ‘finishing school’. After high school (for the most part, uneventfully, but more on that later), I went on to college at nearby
After college, I went to work, married and started my family, all rather natural steps for me. But, from a career perspective, not exactly Gloria Steinem-esque (may require a Google search for some of you….I’ll wait…..). I knew that having my children early was healthy (for me and them…well maybe more so for me…they may have benefited from more experience on my part, but water under the bridge now). But having children just a year into my career brought some challenges for equity and parody in career goals and rewards down the line. Yet, this was my choice, I was (and am) proud of it and began thinking of ways to jumpstart my career, when I was ready.
I tried to gain as much experience as possible while maintaining my focus on my family during this ‘off-ramping’ process [which, by the way, I recently heard an ‘expert’ talking about off-ramping only to find that the ‘experts’ consider a career diversion (aka kids ….? humm) to be 3-5 years. I was a bit longer (about 10 years longer) as I don’t know many kids who are self-sufficient at 5, but, again, I digress]. My experience during this time included teaching my children and others ( a lot), learning from my children and others (also a lot), volunteering, running organizations, fund raising, political office, project management, sampling the diversity of my career opportunities and rounding it all out with back to school…for me.
A doctorate degree was always enticing to me (1) because the terminal degree in my undergrad studies was so very exciting and (2) that would surely provide the jump start and hopefully manage the ‘gap’ in ‘full time’ employment that was likely to work against me when I chose to return to my career.
Interestingly, at one of the interviews when I was selecting a FT position, an interviewer…female of course, asked why did I think I could handle a FT job? This after I had noted that my resume included predominately PT out of the home work, but also noting the significant amount of unpaid work I did concurrently. So, on average, I was ‘working’
I did complete my graduate work, while my kids were in middle school and some high school, so we all learned together. At the culmination, I did my research project with elderly subjects and teaching them about good pharmaceutical care. Pretty neat stuff. Soon after graduating, but already back in my career track, I decided one more degree was important to fill a gap in my understanding. I completed an MBA program while working and high school/college for my kids.
Before we leave this blog, I must send out a special recognition and thank you to my family. Without the support of my husband and children, none of this would be possible. During the first return to school, I monopolized the VCR (lectures on tape) and disappeared for 12 hour Saturday classes or later for whole weekends. I was working PT through some of this, but away from home (or at home and ‘busy’) full time. More dinners than I’d like were take out; laundry was slow; special treats were more often “semi-homemade” and virtually every where we went, I had a book with me. All in all, dealing with what most others do and we survived. The patience and understanding of my family was essential for these successes and continues to be critical for everything I do or accomplish. It may not have taken a ‘village’ to raise my children, but it certainly took my husband, my children and I working together to earn my post grad degrees. Only shame is that only one name per diploma ( when I make the rules, that one gets amended).
Saturday, November 29, 2008
A lost opportunity….first of many?
I confess to being no expert on parenting. I haven’t raised a dozen kids or even 3 (without making a mistake or two or two hundred), but I think I do know a thing or two about what children need and what, more importantly, what we mere mortal parents can provide.
It is from this perspective I speak to you now. On a recent Saturday, I found myself at a nail salon getting a pedicure. (Well, ‘found’ myself is not exactly right. I made an appointment and drove myself there. And, yes, after my youngest turned 20, I realized what a treat a pedicure can be and I now splurge every month or so and love it. And I can’t believe I still feel the need to justify this…. ah, well, I digress.)
As I relaxed in the aging massage chair and read a ladies magazine (the decadence, I know), I noticed a young mom enter with her maybe 3 year old daughter. I thought how cute, ‘mom and me’ time at the salon. This mom appeared to take great care of herself (good for you, mom) and did not strike me as a soccer mom, but more likely an outside the home, working mom. Again, no judgment, but I thought, good for you, taking some quality time for you and little young one. That was until she opened her cell phone.
Yes, this mom, who was now neatly ensconced in her own massage chair, placed her young daughter on her lap, facing the pedicurist, and picked up her phone. She spent the next 35 minutes (I kid you not...when I left, she was still talking) on the phone with someone while her daughter was making faces at the sweet pedicurist.
I felt like taking this woman (the mom, not the pedicurist) by the shoulders and shaking her while screaming, “WAKE UP! This child will not be young and open to listening to you for long and certainly will not be so keen to spend an hour with you very much longer.”
Now, I admit to sometimes dragging my own kids to appointments or the food store or some other not so fun place now and again….well maybe even weekly. But I always tried to remember that even these times are precious. Talking about the most mundane things, but really listening, can often be the most revealing conversations. I remember once making a point to one of children about the selection of the ingredients for dinner as we trolled the produce section and how to select a good cantaloupe melon (which may or may not have been a wives tale, but at least I was talking). Her young and innocent retort to me? “Mom, where do they keep the pink lemons?” Pink lemons, I noodled? “Yes, you know, the ones they make into pink lemonade.”
We all laughed, but I thought, how sweet and innocent. I almost missed that. The world, in this child’s eyes, was so clear and pure. I love that about my children and all children. ………My son’s confession that he knew Santa Claus didn’t bring gifts into the homes around world, logistically how ridiculous…. though he had heard the reindeer on the roof from his bedroom (oops…squirrels in the attic again??), so he was OK with the whole flying reindeer thing, but Santa in the chimney…mhmm maybe not.
……...The moment my children realized the footprints that Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore were tracking as they circled the big tree in “The Hundred Acre Woods” were their own.
……..And the day my kids realized how the money appeared under their pillows after their lost tooth disappeared.
Milestones, no doubt, but so easily missed if we’re not watching closely. I know our days are packed and full of oh so much, but we can not afford to miss these moments. They, like our children, are much too precious.
Just one woman’s opinion….
Friday, November 28, 2008
Inaugural blog
I have decided to embark on this blog, quite a departure from the 'me' to date, after reading a number of other blogs and enjoying the freedom of expression and anticipating the cathartic release. So here goes...
A bit of background... I am a health care professional, a field chosen for the healing and help I can provide, flexible nature of the career, and stability of the job opportunities. (What the heck, I was 16 yrs old when I made this decision; I think I was pretty mature). Shortly after 'finishing' school (more later), I married and started a family. I so excited to be a mom and had always planned to be the primary caretaker for my children (aka, the stay at home mom, or just plan mom). I looked forward to it and enjoyed, virtually, every moment of it (more definitely later).
Fast forward about 10 years, when I was seriously entertaining my return to my profession as a career (having maintained my license and working part time around various schedules from the day I left full time employment). I decided to 'jump start' my return by returning to school for an advanced degree. Continuing to work PT, mom and wife FT, elected public official PT, community activist (what is that, by the way?)/ volunteer PT etc etc, I earned my next degree...and then other. During this time, I returned to the 'corporate' environment with my peers no longer single people who cringed at the site of children (a few left) but now either parents themselves or childless couples/singles, more mature and worldly. I expected my transition back to be a bit rocky, but for reasons other than I discovered were true. I expected learning email and corporate politics to be by major concerns and learned quickly I had to 'hide' my true self or suffer the consequences.
My true self is still a wife and mom, but one who made a choice (somehow I find now mine was not a PC choice, so little tolerance for it) to raise my children with little outside help (I count Lorie and Nickki, who covered the 2-3 hours a week between my schedule and my husband's, and for the periodic 'date nights' with same, while invaluable, not substantive but definitely essential for my sanity. Little did I realize this choice would be something I have to hide now, even ten years later, for fear of it indicative of a lack of dedication to my career, lack of experience in managing people or projects (seriously??) or lack of my ability to multi-task (this was my most favorite for a laugh--definitely more later).
So here I write, ten years into my corporate career in a health care industry, that I still do not refer to the 'lost' years when I baked for my kids (still do a bit), ran the PTO, Girl Scout troops, soccer mom, softball mom, class mom (even to classes where I did not have a child because of other peoples' choices), community activist/leader, elected official, watched others' children (pro bono), volunteered in the classroom, ran the Spring Fair, Holiday Bazaar, etc etc etc....for fear of being thought of as not serious in my career. I refer to these years by my part time paid employment (yes, at the same time as above) and don't mention the part time nature. I listen silently when women (ironically, always women) refer to stay at home moms as a drain, lazy, with holier than thou attitudes. And I say nothing, as every time I have come to the defense of moms at home, I either get a chilling scowl, furrowed brow-look and I fear my cover is nearly blown or, worse, when on about 3 occasions I have sought to confess my true identity, receive the condescending retort and recoil...."Oh... really? Listen, I have to get going. Good luck with all that." (rbtl - read between the lines - I have some serious business to get to with serious adults, so ....be on your way.....)
Call me paranoid, call me shallow, but if this gets you to think about how you pre-judge someone without walking a mile or a playground in their shoes, my goal is met. Stay tuned for more, sometimes hilarious anecdotes about my experiences, both in my 'career' and while in my at-home mode, as I have been in this nether world for years. Not quite a FT sahm (stay at home mom) since I keep my work ties, and not truly a FT wm (working mom) as I was the mom who brushed hair for the school pix and helped pack up those wrapping paper orders, or waited with your kids 30-45 min after brownies cause you got caught at work... With feet in both worlds, keeping from splitting into two people was a challenge, and now I have to keep that time tightly locked away until...? Yet to be sure when to come out of the closet. Stay tuned.
A bit of background... I am a health care professional, a field chosen for the healing and help I can provide, flexible nature of the career, and stability of the job opportunities. (What the heck, I was 16 yrs old when I made this decision; I think I was pretty mature). Shortly after 'finishing' school (more later), I married and started a family. I so excited to be a mom and had always planned to be the primary caretaker for my children (aka, the stay at home mom, or just plan mom). I looked forward to it and enjoyed, virtually, every moment of it (more definitely later).
Fast forward about 10 years, when I was seriously entertaining my return to my profession as a career (having maintained my license and working part time around various schedules from the day I left full time employment). I decided to 'jump start' my return by returning to school for an advanced degree. Continuing to work PT, mom and wife FT, elected public official PT, community activist (what is that, by the way?)/ volunteer PT etc etc, I earned my next degree...and then other. During this time, I returned to the 'corporate' environment with my peers no longer single people who cringed at the site of children (a few left) but now either parents themselves or childless couples/singles, more mature and worldly. I expected my transition back to be a bit rocky, but for reasons other than I discovered were true. I expected learning email and corporate politics to be by major concerns and learned quickly I had to 'hide' my true self or suffer the consequences.
My true self is still a wife and mom, but one who made a choice (somehow I find now mine was not a PC choice, so little tolerance for it) to raise my children with little outside help (I count Lorie and Nickki, who covered the 2-3 hours a week between my schedule and my husband's, and for the periodic 'date nights' with same, while invaluable, not substantive but definitely essential for my sanity. Little did I realize this choice would be something I have to hide now, even ten years later, for fear of it indicative of a lack of dedication to my career, lack of experience in managing people or projects (seriously??) or lack of my ability to multi-task (this was my most favorite for a laugh--definitely more later).
So here I write, ten years into my corporate career in a health care industry, that I still do not refer to the 'lost' years when I baked for my kids (still do a bit), ran the PTO, Girl Scout troops, soccer mom, softball mom, class mom (even to classes where I did not have a child because of other peoples' choices), community activist/leader, elected official, watched others' children (pro bono), volunteered in the classroom, ran the Spring Fair, Holiday Bazaar, etc etc etc....for fear of being thought of as not serious in my career. I refer to these years by my part time paid employment (yes, at the same time as above) and don't mention the part time nature. I listen silently when women (ironically, always women) refer to stay at home moms as a drain, lazy, with holier than thou attitudes. And I say nothing, as every time I have come to the defense of moms at home, I either get a chilling scowl, furrowed brow-look and I fear my cover is nearly blown or, worse, when on about 3 occasions I have sought to confess my true identity, receive the condescending retort and recoil...."Oh... really? Listen, I have to get going. Good luck with all that." (rbtl - read between the lines - I have some serious business to get to with serious adults, so ....be on your way.....)
Call me paranoid, call me shallow, but if this gets you to think about how you pre-judge someone without walking a mile or a playground in their shoes, my goal is met. Stay tuned for more, sometimes hilarious anecdotes about my experiences, both in my 'career' and while in my at-home mode, as I have been in this nether world for years. Not quite a FT sahm (stay at home mom) since I keep my work ties, and not truly a FT wm (working mom) as I was the mom who brushed hair for the school pix and helped pack up those wrapping paper orders, or waited with your kids 30-45 min after brownies cause you got caught at work... With feet in both worlds, keeping from splitting into two people was a challenge, and now I have to keep that time tightly locked away until...? Yet to be sure when to come out of the closet. Stay tuned.
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