Staying at home

I've been a stay-at-home mom for all but two of the months I've been a mom. It's been wonderful.  I truly don't miss work at all.  I'm grateful that I was able to reach a lot of people and achieve a level of success that I feel reflects how hard I worked and how committed I was to excelling.  I was on billboards!  In commercials!  What?!  

(Okay, I'm embarrassed for myself right now.  Please, let's never mention this again.)

But the rewards I receive every day in Baby Girl's smile and her squeals when she sees me and her grabbing my hair or cheeks so she can eat my nose far eclipse all of the success I enjoyed at work.




I know that this doesn't mirror everyone's experience.  Baby Girl is fun, easy-going, and just so easy to make happy.  Sleep training was hard (for me, especially), but not insurmountable.  Feeding her can be trying because she's so social and wants to play more than eat.  But we all know she's not missing many meals.  For my friends who have to work or who have decided that it's necessary or important for their families/mental well-being/etc, I support you and your decision, because I know it wasn't made lightly.  I understand, too, the draw of contributing to the family income, being told you're doing a great job, and interacting with (hopefully) intelligent adults all day.  It's not just nice, it's gratifying (I won't list all of the reasons work also sucks far, far more than even the hardest day staying at home.).  But either way, it's your thing, girl.  Do what you wanna do. 




But recently I had an experience that I can't shake, and it confirmed to me the rightness of my place being at home.  More importantly, it strengthened my testimony of the divine role of motherhood and a child's need for the constant presence of her mother (particularly versus, say, a grandma.  Or an extra dad.).


I took Baby Girl to the library to play in the "First Five Years" play area.  While I was sitting on the floor playing with her at one of the little stations, a little girl of perhaps 6 or 7 sat near us, and her two littler sisters hovered nearby.  




"Is this your little baby?" she asked.




I smiled.  "Yes, she is."




"Do you work here?"




"Nope."




"Are you just here to play with your baby?"




"Yep.  We just came to play."

"Because you love your little baby?

"Yep."


She stared at me as if this was the most astonishing thing she'd ever heard.  Then she held open Where's Waldo and started to tell me about the book.  She asked me to play with her.  To read with her.  Her younger sisters came over and were almost sitting on my lap.  I talked to them about what they were reading and asked them a few questions.  They ate up the attention.  In that moment, I knew of a certainty that it wasn't just that a random woman was giving them attention.  It was that a mother was paying them attention.




It broke my heart.




As "The Family: A Proclamation to the World" teaches us:  "Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. ...Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children."




Everyone's situation is different, and I'm sure that if these sweet little girls have a mother, she is doing her best to take care of them, just as I am for Baby Girl.  But my place is at home with her, and I'm eternally grateful that I have the opportunity to be in my place.

"Just" Nothing


On Sunday, a friend of mine spoke in church and took the opportunity to first introduce her family, including her highly educated and accomplished husband.  When she got to herself, she said, "And I'm just a mom at home with the kids."




I felt like someone had tried to slap me.  And I felt like slapping her (just a little bit.  Lovingly). 




Before becoming a mom, I had a successful, high profile career for twelve years.  I was very well respected at work and only had more opportunities in front of me.  When my years of infertility were finally rendered obsolete (YAY!), I returned to work for a short time, but ultimately decided to stay home.  When I left my job, I was overwhelmed by the number of people who reached out to me with their regrets (and support).  Yet now, not even nine months after I closed my office door for the last time, conferences and trainings and site visits are all still happening.  My former coworkers are going to lunch together.  My boss has taken my replacement under his wing, complete with inside and practical jokes.  My directors are thriving under the new regime.  All without me.


On the other hand, when I leave my kid for two minutes to go to the bathroom, it's like the apocalypse has come early at our house (okay, not quite, but you get the picture).  I’ve never felt more important, loved, wanted, needed, or fulfilled.  Instead of managing grown ups who too frequently choose not to change or grow, I get to shape the entire life of someone who is constantly developing and learning and laughing and calling the wrong things “Daddy!”  I love it.  So when someone says "just" to staying at home, it saddens me.  And I'm not alone.


Patricia Holland, wife of LDS Apostle, Jeffrey R. Holland, said:

"If I were Satan and wanted to destroy a society, I think I would stage a full-blown blitz on women. I would keep them so distraught and distracted that they would never find the calming strength and serenity for which their sex has always been known.

Satan has effectively done that, catching us in the crunch of trying to be superhuman instead of striving to reach our unique, God-given potential within such diversity. He tauntingly teases us that if we don’t have it all—fame, fortune, families, and fun, and have it all the time—we have been short-changed and are second-class citizens in the race of life. As a sex we are struggling, our families are struggling, and our society is struggling."1

She said this in 1987, over 25 years ago.  We all know the problem has only gotten worse.  We feel the pressure everywhere we go, sometimes even at church.  We see it in the media, read it in books, and are slapped in the face with it so frequently, our cheeks are numb. (And that’s not even mentioning Pinterest!)  Satan has one message for us as women:  you’re not enough.  You’re never enough. 

Bullpucky.




My mom passed away when I was a little girl.  I scour photo albums for glimpses of her (she hated having her picture taken) and pour over the baby journal she kept for me, eager to glean hints of her personality.  I pepper my grandma with questions about her and relive memories with my siblings.  When my dad or her old friends tell stories, I listen with wide eyes, an open heart, and a tightly closed mouth.  I cherish memories of the holidays that she took pains to make special, not because of the hand-crafted decorations-matching-the-invitations-matching-my-dress, but because of the thoughtful, personalized touches that made you know it was for you, not her. I revel in her wit and sass.  I admire her kindness and charity and the fact that virtually every woman in our small town felt that she was, in fact, my mom’s best friend.  I delight in her competitiveness and intelligence and her love of adventure and thirst for knowledge.  I miss her voice.  

She is with me always, a part of my world, an integral part of my identity, regardless of how little time I actually spent with her - less time than my career, in fact.  If someone tried to tell me she "just" stayed at home, I wouldn't be able to laugh or even grow angry at their ignorance.  I'd pity them.  


I respect the heck out of those moms who work, whether it's by choice or not.  It's hard and it's sometimes frustrating and it's sometimes wonderful.  And having experienced over a decade of unwanted childlessness, I know you can be happy and fulfilled in your life/marriage/career/church calling without a child.  Whatever path we find ourselves on, we can know joy and know our Heavenly Father, if we want to.   

There’s no “just” to any of our lives.  No woman is “just” single or married or working or at home or any combination thereof. 

And no woman has ever, ever, ever “just” been a mom.




1. Holland, Patricia. "One Thing Needful: Becoming Women of Greater Faith in Christ." LDS.Org. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 01 Oct. 1987. Web. 26 Aug. 2013.