On being a working mama, and how it kind of sucks.

Nothing hurts more than when I come home from a particularly stressful day at work, excited to see my son, and he cries when I pick him up, only finding solace in his dad.

Some days, I want nothing more than to be a stay-at-home mom. Some days, I don’t think my husband understands how good he has it, being able to stay home with E.

I say “some days,” because I remember how difficult that life can be. It’s not all play-time and cuddles. It’s work.

But it’s those days when E crawls past me without blinking an eye, straight to his dad. It’s those nights when he wants nothing to do with me, regardless of how many tricks I have up my sleeve, but is content doing nothing as long as he’s with his dad. Those days, those nights, I long to trade my husband places.

“Let’s switch,” I told him tonight. “I’ll stay home with E and YOU can go to work.”

E is 9 months old now, and impossible to convince to sit still enough for a self-portrait.

I didn’t even try to hide the bitterness in my voice.

Kind of like I’m not even trying to hide it now.

They don’t tell you that if you’re lucky enough to get to have one parent stay at home (even if finances get a little, um, tricky), that the other parent will battle serious feelings of inadequacy. The working parent will, more often than not, feel like she (or he) is fighting for the baby’s love and attention.

They don’t tell you that even though you were secretly SO EXCITED OMG to go back to work and be around other adults, you’d start to regret that decision a teeny tiny bit. They don’t tell you that, when you accidentally screw something up at work, you secretly aren’t too terrified at the thought that you might actually maybe could get fired.

They don’t tell you that being a stay-at-home mom is hard, but being a working mom is emotionally draining.

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