I fed my kid Wendy’s last night.

There is a delicate balance to juggling mommyhood and professional businesswoman-dom. I give mad kudos to all the rockstar mommy’s out there that have mastered this art. I am finding that each day I feel a little more experienced, a little more like maybe I have it all together and figured out.

There are also days where all I can think about, even after Mason is tucked away safely in his bed, is the guilt that settles in the pit of my stomach. I wish I could say that the guilt is one-sided, but unfortunately, it is multi-faceted. I feel guilty that I have to shut the door behind me every morning, leaving him on the other side. I feel guilty that I’m not there to make him eggs and a freshly blended smoothie for breakfast (because after all this is what Pinterest and other social media sites tell us we should be doing, right?). I feel guilty that some nights, I’m not able to pick him up on time, and by the time I get to him, it’s time for bed and I don’t get to be “Fun Mommy”, I just have to be “Let’s Put Your Jammies On, Read Some Books, and Brush Your Teeth Before Jumping Into Bed” Mommy. I am not sure what goes through his little head. Does he think that I’m late because I don’t want to see him and have fun? Does he resent me for handing him off each day? I take heart in the fact that I don’t remember a single thing about being two, but my mom didn’t work. I had her at my disposal every day. I don’t remember anything about that either, so maybe it is an invalid argument.

All I know is that we working mommy’s have our work cut out for us: we have to strap on our big girl panties each morning and tackle life in the workplace, while making sure that our children do not feel as if they are of less importance to us. I don’t like to admit that I can’t count on two hands the amount of times Mason has grabbed the edge of my shirt or purse and plead with me to not leave. He says heartbreaking things like “He doesn’t like Mommy’s work” or “Mason stay with Mommy” or “Mason stay at Mommy’s house.” I beat myself up when this happens. Maybe I should be more forgiving with myself.

Regardless, it’s a balance I struggle with daily. Am I thankful for my job? Yes. Am I blessed immensely? Indeed. Do I have a bad-ass support system? MOST DEFINITELY! I would do well to focus on these things instead of my negative feelings. One day Mason will be old enough to understand that everything I do is for him, that I work as hard as I do to ensure that he has everything he needs, as well as everything his little heart desires. And when that day comes, I’m willing to bet that I will wish I hadn’t been so hard on myself.

So. Sweeping declaration: Hey, you! Yes, you!! The Mommy who puts in 5 extra hours in the work week so that she can make sure ends are met, you are not doing the wrong thing! And you! The Mommy who beats herself up for plopping her little one’s butt on the closed toilet lid with an iPad and applies makeup and does her hair for a half hour instead of busting out the markers and spending the morning doing “bonding” things with your child, it is ok!! (Not speaking from experience or anything). And even you! Yes you, Mommy who ran an hour late picking your kid up, please do not feel as though you are a negligent parent for being so exhausted, all you could do was waltz on through the drive-thru of the nearest Wendy’s instead of going home to whip up some broccoli and grilled chicken. You are doing the very best you can! And the little one in the backseat loves you very much. He is happy. Promise.

~ Rachel

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