On being a working mother…

I am currently in the process of applying for teaching positions for the 2009-2010 school year. I taught last year on a temporary contact and then there was the budget crisis and thus I find myself here in August without a job. I am told things should work out, but yet I remain without a contract and thus filled with angst about my future.

As I have yet to find employment, it has been gently suggested to me by some well-intentioned individuals, that perhaps this would be a good opportunity for me to stay home with our daughter, to “get her out of daycare.”

I smile and nod and then I walk away when things like that are said to me. I try not to take offense, although I know what is being said; that in fact, my daughter’s life, her upbringing, and her childhood is somehow compromised by my/our decision to place her daily care in the hands of “strangers.” She will in fact turn out damaged and somehow mentally, emotionally or behaviorally stunted because she is in daycare instead of staying home with me all day. I understand because until a year ago, I thought the same thing.

It was one year ago that Bryan and I made the decision that I would return to work. I had stayed home for a year, and although we had originally thought I would stay home longer, I was feeling anxious to return to the work force. While our financial situation was a consideration, my own need to work took precedent. While things were pretty tight, ultimately I did not go back to work because I had to, I went back to work because I wanted to. Also, we felt our daughter could benefit from being around other people beside myself. She seemed bored with me most days, and although I tried to stimulate her with games and songs, she thrived whenever she was in a setting with many children. And thus, the hunt was on.

The first few daycares we visited were horrible. They were big, impersonal corporate institutions. I left one crying, convinced I would never leave my child to languish in such a place, grieving for the people and children who were forced to use such facilities.

And then, on a whim, we drove up to a little place I had passed on my way home from work in years past. It was adorable, it was small, and it was privately owned. We rang the bell, and a young teacher opened the door: bright colors greeted us and perfectly appointed cubbies with each child’s name adorned the walls in the entryway. We walked in and were immediately greeted with open arms. The small staff seemed to not only know each of the children in their three small classes, but they seemed to love them as their own. This was the place for us.

However, I was still not completely comfortable with our decision. I was happy to be getting back to work, but there was still a part of me that was worried about what kind of “damage” we and ultimately I would be doing to my daughter. It was about a week later, I was sitting in my doctor’s office, getting my annual check-up, when she asked who would be taking care of our daughter when I went to work. I replied, sighing, with a bit of a sad tone, “daycare.” She looked up at me, looked me right in the eye and said, “well I was a daycare kid my whole life, and I think I turned out ok.”

She then asked me “Do you like where she is going?

Me: “Yes, very much.”

Dr. “Do you feel she will be safe? Will she be mentally stimulated, will she get to play, eat and nap regularly?”

Me: “Yes.”

Dr. “Well then, she’ll be just fine, how she turns out is up to you.”

It was then that I realized my attitude about daycare was unfounded; while she may go play with some kids and be with a teacher for a few hours each day, I am still her mother and her father and I are still responsible for how she is raised.

It has been a year since we enrolled our daughter in that small daycare/preschool facility and we have seen her thrive. At the age of two, she already knows her alphabet, her colors, can count past ten and can sing a variety of children’s songs. Not only is she learning, she is happy and well adjusted. She loves going to “school” every day and I know she is safe and being well cared for. She loves her teacher and is being challenged and learning daily, perhaps more so than if she was home hanging around the house with me all day.

This is not to say that staying home is not important, I have many friends and family members who have chosen to stay home with their children and I applaud them and respect them. What I am saying is that MY staying home was not a good fit for our family. I did not feel like I was serving her or my husband well by staying home. I feel I am a more effective and better mother and wife when I also work outside the home.

What I find troubling however, is when this choice is treated with disrespect and even sometimes, disdain. As if I have somehow violated a sacred bond of sister or motherhood. It was somehow acceptable when I said, “I work because I have to work, we can’t afford it otherwise.” It is not acceptable however, if I say, “I work because I want to, I work because I’m a better wife, mother and woman.”

Furthermore, why is it that now, in 2009, when in many families it is the women makes more money than the man, it is still the woman who is chastised for whatever decision she makes? If she stays home, she is “just” a stay-at-home Mom. If she goes to work, she “abandoned” her child.

How about instead of worrying about what everyone is doing, we just agree, “we’re all doing the best we can” and support one another as such?

In the meantime, I’m going to enjoy my daughter every moment and enjoy the time I am working as well, for I am truly blessed to have the privilege to be able to do both.