I almost missed Julia's Working Mommy Wednesday. She asked about mommy guilt this week.
I never planned on working full-time with little kids, but even though I’m working full time, I know I’m a lucky one.
First, living in Idaho, there is no commute. Not only that, but my kids are at on-site daycare, and only for three days a week, sometimes not even all day.
Even with a traditional full-time schedule, my kids were able to do swim lessons with me because I took my lunch break for Mom and Me classes. In the summer, university hours end at 4, giving me lots of evening with the kids. Matt doesn’t work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and we all have lunch together. Our weekends are full of fun.
One of the things that makes me the most lucky, however, is that I have wonderful people caring for my children when I can’t be there.
Most of my friends who work have looked for a home environment for their kids when they are away. When my babies were tiny babies, I did too, and I still think it was best at that time. But now, both kids are in a daycare center.
Of course, like all working mothers, I sometimes feel guilty about the fact that I have to work. You hear about daycare centers on talk shows and amongst those who believe that women who send their children to daycare are committing child abuse.
They paint pictures of institutions, with sad-eyed children on leashes walking around the grounds, if they go outside at all. You hear about how they scream for their mothers who aren’t there, and are ignored. It’s enough to make any mother feel guilty.
But, it only takes one visit to my children’s daycares to know that the perception those people create is, at least in our case, false. I walk in the doors to a smiling receptionist who greets my kids by name even though there are 200 kids there on any given day.
They go to their rooms, Thomas to a room with a few other babies and cuddly, sweet women, and Anne Marie to a preschool-style room with a teacher and her friends.
On any day, I can walk out of my office and see both of my kids outside playing, with teachers who are playing right alongside them. All the kids look happy. Of course, I’ve seen the occasional temper tantrum, but if it happens at home, it’s bound to happen at daycare too, right?
Thomas doesn’t cry when I drop him off. He immediately greets his caregiver, then walks over to the Elmo toy he loves. Anne Marie is always a little sad to see me go, but she always has great stories to tell me on the way home about her friends, the sandbox, the new songs she has learned and more.
It’s not home, and the caregivers are not my childrens’ mother. And, although our daycare bill is more than our mortgage, those caregivers, who have certificates and degrees in the field, would be better off salary-wise in the fast food industry. But they care about my kids and they want what’s best for them, just like I do.
Thomas and Anne Marie learn and have fun at daycare. Anne Marie has known all her colors for more than a year. She knows how to share and how to communicate with other kids. She knows her shapes and the alphabet. She can even recognize a word or two. Thomas can sign “please,” “more” and “milk,” and he is learning to share as well, although I think the sharing deal is a bit slower for him. ☺
I don’t think I’ve missed any first steps or other milestones, but, honestly, I’ll never know if I did, and for that I am grateful. One day, I walked into Thomas’s daycare one day and saw one of the little babies walking around. I mentioned it to one of the women, and she said, “Oh, I know. It’s great! Don’t tell T’s mom. He’s not walking at home yet, and we don’t want her to think she missed it.”
At first glance, it might sound like they weren’t being honest, but to me it simply means they understand. They know what it’s like to have to leave your child with someone else, and how important it is to not feel like you have missed something. I love them for that.
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