are things complicated yet?

Let's sort through the contents of my order from Gap, shall we?

I really love my UPS man.  He's so nice and kind and SUPER efficient.  He always stops by my house on his way back to the facility to see if we're home when there's a signature required.  (Those packages are always a case of wine and, well, I think he understands that we'd like to have that in our hot little hands as soon as possible.)

Today Kevin (yeah, I know his name), dropped off the best box of fun ever.  It is a Big Box Of Banana Republic Fun!

Let's take inventory, shall we?

(Oh, wait.  Something you should know about me is that I habitually order several hundred dollars worth of clothes online and then only keep a fraction of it.  I actually visit the stores in person to decide what I am going to order ONLINE so I can try it on at home without a certain wiggly, whiny someone getting int he way of me making a good purchasing decision.  Lame?  Certainly.  But it works for me.)

(Also, I got 25% off the whole order because of some promo they were running so I was in a "the more the merrier" sort of mood.)

So.  Let's delve into the box, shall we?

***

Supersoft layering v-neck T, Color: true black

$19.50

Supersoft layering v-neck T, Color: new navy
$19.50

So, I got these shirts in navy and black with the intent of wearing them a lot after work and on the weekends.  I really love a good v-neck, it flatters my particular body type and I hate high crew necks because I always feel like I'm choking.  Plus, with 25% off they were like $14

Sailor pencil skirt

Color: true black

$49.50

I hated this skirt for unspecified reasons.  Also?  Too expensive for a dumb black skirt.  RETURN!

Knit pants

Color: red

Unit price: $12.50 $4.99

Dudes!  I love slash-through pricing on my invoice!  Look at all that cash I saved.  And, in case you didn't figure it out, these are pants for CLAIRE, not me.

 

Little pocket T

Color: strawberry

Unit price: $19.50 $9.99

For $10?  I LOVE THIS SHIRT.  It's soft, the sleeves go to mid-palm, (which I love in the winter) and it's such a bright fun color.  And also?  It looks great under this dress:

Double-knit pleated dress

Color: true black knit

Unit price: $59.50

Now, truthfully?  This dress is no great find.  It's just a stupid, black, shapeless dress that you can wear on your fattest of fat days and still be all, "But hey!  I'm wearing a dress to work so that's better than pajamas!"  Because of the empire waist, I could probably even wear this pregnant until about month 7.  So yeah, it's not that flattering.  But I have decided that dresses are my New Work Thing so I'm actively trying to find some that are simple, easy to accessorize, comfortable, non dry-clean-only and less than $100.  This fits the bill.  Sold.

Quilted barn jacket

Color light english rose

Unit price $34.50

I wanted to keep Claire warm this winter.  This is the jacket I picked.  Like the reviews on the site though, it's kind of smallish.  Will be exchanging for the next size up.  Cute coat though and after the coupon it was just as much as the ones at Target that I didn't think were nearly as cute.  I mean, this one has polka dots.  POLKA DOTS.  I cannot say no to those.

Origami sheath dress

Color Black

Unit price $142.00 $89.99

Again with the dresses for work thing.  I'm pretty short-waisted, so this dress didn't fit me correctly.  There was about 3" too much dress in the waist and it looked rather frump.  On a 3" taller person though, this dress would be super cute. RETURN!

Lightweight wool sheath dress

ColorTaupe heather

Unit price $152.00 

I knew this was more than I wanted to pay for a dress, but I just thought it was so cute on the model.  (Note to self:  YOU ARE NOT A MODEL.)  I even looked for it in-store to try on so I could avoid ordering a $152 dress.  But my local Banana was out of them, which made me think that maybe it might be a totally awesome dress since it was all sold out.  It's not.  The pleats are all retarded and look stupid.  RETURN!

Long-sleeve turtleneck sweater

Color Black

Unit price $59.50

They had this sweater under the dress above and really it was SO cute.  So I tried it.  And it looked stupid on me.  And this sweater is soft and nice but it hits me on the hip weird and makes me look fat so, no.  RETURN!

Eliza slouch high-heel boot

Color Black suede

Unit price $198

I only ordered these boots because after I was in San Francisco this summer and I saw EVERYONE wearing sassy boots I decided that I was woefully behind the times and I needed some sassy boots.  I also hate department stores, don't have time to drive 30 minutes to one and back to try on boots so I figured I needed to order SOME boots to try on and at least see if this was a trend I was interested in.

I AM INTERESTED.  I love these boots.  They have a too-high heel, the suede is totally impractical, they cost too much ($150 after my coupon...but still), you can't wear them in the rain, blah, blah, a thousand reasons to return them and....I can't.  I'm keeping them.  This is my splurge purchase of the season after a year and a half of not buying anything except maternity clothes, cheapie post-partum clothes I hated and pajamas. I'm keeping the damn boots.

I know I could probably find them elsewhere, at better quality for maybe the same price or less.  But, to be honest, I don't have time for that.  If I shopped around I'd be without boots until February.  That wouldn't be any fun.

***

Thus concludes the adventure with Banana Republic and Gap today.  Where are YOU shopping lately? Any finds?  I am discovering that I hate a lot of what's for sale this season, which is frustrating when I DO find ten minutes to dart into a store on my own.

Are you ready for some more working mom drama?

I've been back at work for 7 weeks.  It seems like such a long time.

Looking back at my posts right before and right after going back to the office I can't believe what a drama queen I was. 

Yes, this is a big deal.  Yes, it's this awful time management clusterfuck that I can never seem to win.  Yes, I miss my baby terribly during the day.  Yes, pumping is a giant pain and so is bottle washing.  Yes, I am sleeping even less because of some growth-spurt-regression and my refusal to just let her cry it out.  Yes, my house is a disaster most days. (All days.) Yes, OF COURSE I wish I could stay at home and eat bon-bons with Claire on the sofa.  (Because that's what SAHMs do, right?  Right?  Heh.)

But also?  I am kind of getting to a peaceful place with my new identity.  The haze is gradually clearing and I am starting to see the benefits of the Grand Trade I am making.

But dude, being a working mom is complicated.  SO FRICKING COMPLICATED. 

Let's put aside all of the high level stuff that falls under the broad category of Mommy Guilt. 

I can handle that.  (Well, eventually I can handle it.  Am still working on how to deal with my enormous rolling attache of Mommy Guilt that I tote to and from the office every day.) 

What is killing me is the day-to-day business of just managing to keep everyone fed and not tripping over Claire's toys in the living room.  Nothing beyond that - just keeping bellies full and the family uninjured are my priorities.  Anything beyond that (like, say, working out, laundry, writing thank you notes, organizing and sharing photos, returning phone calls, that all falls to the veeeeery back on my list) is simply beyond my capabilities.

For example, this is a typical work day:

430am - Claire wakes up.  Sometimes she is up for the day, sometimes she will go back to sleep for two hours.  Either way, she would like to eat at this time.

5 am - Claire is finished eating.  But I'm awake.  And Chris is awake now.  Let's say this is a day that Claire would like to NOT go back to sleep.  I'll play with her, make some oatmeal and coffee and play some more.  

530 am - Chris leaves for work.  (YES, he leaves godawful early.  But he also leaves the office at 2 pm.  Good trade.)

6 am - I put Claire in her crib to play with her reflection in her mirror while I take a shower. 

607 am  - It is not a long shower.  Claire demands my attention.  I cannot luxuriate in the hot water and steam and delicious smelling soap with someone wailing at me.

    (Incidentally, delightful smelling bath products are my new splurge of choice.  The Shower and Bath are things that I never really appreciated before becoming a Mom.  Now?  I see a Shower and Bath as Much Coveted Personal Time where I get to Be Alone and Close The Door for more than 5 minutes.  A steamy bubble bath with some pricey and yummy bubbles is quickly becoming my relaxation method of choice.)

610 am - Claire plays on the floor of the bathroom while I dry my hair, put on makeup and get dressed.  I never have anything to wear.  Claire has either barfed on a key wardrobe item that I wear frequently, barfed on something I wear infrequently, or everything is wet in the washing machine because we forgot to put things in the dryer last night.  I cobble together an "outfit" and swear that I will shop online sometime today at work.

Because I cannot keep walking out of the house looking like this.

630 am - Now it's time to get Claire dressed.  This is usually pretty fun since baby girl clothes are so damn cute. 

633 am - Claire yaks on her first outfit of the day.  We change her clothes to a secondary outfit.

635 am - Time to wrangle the baby into the car seat!  And put the 4 bags I need into the car (Laptop bag, her diaper bag, bottles, pump bag, purse).  It's too many bags, I know it, but I can't consolidate.  Claire is either happy in her car seat while I load them or royally pissed off.  There is no in-between.

7 am - We arrive at her day care school.  I check her in, pay fees (if it's Monday), put her bottles in the fridge, put blanket, burp rag, toy and bink in her crib, make small talk with her care providers, play with her a bit, say goodbye.

710 am - Head to my office.

715 - 730 am - I'm at my desk!  And I'm tired!  I go downstairs to the Starbucks in my building and get my second latte of the day.

745 am - I start my day at work.  Three hours after I got up. 

1130 am - I call to see how Claire is doing today.  She is always doing fine.  I always feel like a crazy Mom for calling.  I shop online a little bit.  I don't see anything I want to buy, even though I DESPERATELY need new clothes.  I figure I'll just find a new outfit somehow for tomorrow and not worry about it.

3 pm - I leave my office and go get Claire.

310 pm - I arrive and she is always happy to see me.  Make small talk again with her care providers.  Figure out how her day went.  Pack up all her bottles, blankies, etc.

315 pm - Put her in the car, grin at her and play for 30 seconds before we have to head home.  I always feel so dumb at this point of the day because I want to spend time with her, and technically I am, but she's in the backseat and I'm in the front...it's weird.

330 pm - OMG WE ARE FINALLY HOME.

330 - 5 pm - I snuggle with Claire and we play.  I nurse her.  We snuggle and play some more and I kiss her chubby neck a thousand times and exhale, "I missed you SO MUCH TODAY," into her dimpled cheek. Once a week we have to go to Wal-Mart during this time.  It always sucks but it's better than going on the weekend.

5 pm - Chris gets home.  (He runs some errands, goes to the gym after he leaves his desk.).  We get excited that Daddy is home.

530 pm - Hmm.  We are getting hungry.  Someone plays with the baby while someone else figures out dinner.

6 pm - Dinner is ready.  We eat it with Claire on someone's lap.  She tries to grab everything on the table.  It's funny to see how much better she gets every night at trying to yank things off the table.

6 - 730 pm - Play with the baby.  Give her a bath.  Put her in pajamas.  Play some more.  Read books.

730 - 8 pm - Sometime in here, Claire goes to sleep for the night.  She requires a bink and a few minutes of rocking and she's out.  We are constantly grateful for this one simple thing in our lives.

830 - Chris and I have time alone. 

OMG OMG OMG. TIME ALONE!  

But since we're so wiped out from our day all we want to do is veg out in front of the TV.  The idea of facing Jillian Michaels and my Shred DVD is impossible.  And, of course, it's dark outside and even though the gym is open until 11 there is NO WAY IN HELL I am going.

We usually elect to use this time drinking cocktails and watching DVR'd TV in our pajamas.  We think this is fabulous.  We do not do any dishes. 

Sometimes we get wild and crazy and put a load of laundry in the washing machine.  It will only get transferred to the dryer a few days later when we remember it or are missing clothes to wear.

Other nights we decide that we want to be really nerdy and do computer things.  I shop online, return emails, upload photos, blog.  He does...whatever it is he does.  Spending time with our laptops and not worrying about someone barfing on them feels highly indulgent these days.

1030 pm - Claire decides she would like to eat.  I feed her and she goes back down.  (We are working on dropping this feeding.  So far, not successful at all.  Any tips?)  Sometime in here, we decide that we would like to go to bed too.  We realize that we probably should have gone to bed an hour ago.

1030 pm - Except, OH CRAP, someone has to wash all the ten thousand bottle and pump parts so I can go to work tomorrow.  And this is the biggest whip ever.   And we are tired.  But we do it anyway.  And we hate it.  This week we finally learn that the dishwasher can handle the bottles and we just have to clean the smallish parts that don't fit in the basket.

We still hate it.

1050 pm - Shit.  What am I going to wear tomorrow?  Claire barfed on my frumpy cardigan of choice earlier tonight.  I decide that I'll worry about it in the morning.  Even after 7 weeks of this, I have yet to figure out that there is never ANYTHING TO WEAR IN THE MORNINGS.

230 am - Claire wakes to eat.

430 am  - It starts all over again.  Welcome to the next day.

And there you have it.  It's getting easier, and as she grows SHE is getting easier.  I know that it will not always be like this.

But sometimes?  In the middle of the night or in the mornings when there's nothing to wear and we have to get out of the house in ten minutes?  This feels like the hardest job I'll ever take on and I can feel the tears well up in my eyes.

(Note to Self:  IT IS.)

I love it and I hate it.  But I don't think I would have my life any other way.  This life is pretty damn good.

In which I confess my deep hatred of Dr. Brown and his stupid-complicated bottles

Today is the first time in what seems like weeks (POSITIVELY WEEKS!) that I've had that scarce commodity known as Personal Time.  And how did I get it?  By going to bed last night at 8 and waking up at 430.  The New-Mom-Sleep Deprivation?  I STILL HAZ IT. 

Last week I said to Chris that I am officially ready for her to start sleeping through the night.  She's only waking up once about 1 or 2 to eat but really, I am craving, positively DYING, for a full night of sleep at this point.  I don't even really remember what being rested feels like.

And yet, things continue to roll along.  I have yet to master the art of the very cliche phrase, "Balancing Being a Working Mom."  I'm getting through my days individually but at the end of a week I am a waste of a human being. 

I'm so worthless and tired and the house is a mess and we ate oatmeal for dinner one night and there are no clothes (partly because I own no clothes that actually fit me, not because they are all dirty), we don't pay as much attention to the dog and there are constantly bottles to wash. 

Ohmyhell, the bottles.  They are going to be what breaks me.  Bottle washing is quite seriously The Devil's Handiwork In Action.  I hate bottle washing.  And pump parts washing.  That sucks too.  (Honestly, if you are pregnant, STAY AWAY from those Dr. Brown's bottles.  There are too many damn parts to clean and you will want to back over them with your car after two weeks.  The hate will be that intense.) 

At the end of a day all I want to do is sit down and watch Jillian Michaels yell at fat people and last night I didn't even get to do that because I wanted to go to bed.  So, today at 5 am I was washing bottles. 

*Yay.*

And now, since Claire is still asleep it is time for me to shower and attempt to get dressed.  I say "attempt" because I'm quite certain that the only thing I want to wear are pajamas and I'm not sure there's anything else clean. 

Every day is an adventure.

***Deepest apologies to my friend Grace.  This post is composed largely of an email I sent her this morning and after I wrote her I thought, "Hey, this would make a good update-y type post."  And because I have no spare time, I copied, pasted and did some minor editing.  Forgive me.  I have no time (or shame, it would seem).***

Wah. Just....WAH.

Today Claire turned over from her tummy to her back for the first time.  I don't really know much more than that since she had the audacity to do it at day care when I wasn't there to see it.

When the ladies told me what she'd done I was instantly excited for Claire...but then I was kind of sad.  I just, you know, wanted to see it when she finally managed to figure it out.  I wanted to be there and celebrate with her and remember the quizzical look that must have flashed on her face. 

"Whoa.  What did I just do?"

My feelings about working are obviously complex.  But today I really and truly regretted going to the office.  What else have I been missing that I don't even know about?

Claire, 3 months

Excuses, excuses...

I once read that having an infant is like having the perfect excuse for everything.  Everyone understands all of your shortcomings when you have an infant.

Late?  Had to feed the baby.

Messy house?  Baby.

No shower?  Baby.

Look like crap because not wearing make up, spit up is on shirt and eyes are puffy and red?  Up all night with the baby.

Still a little, uh, puffy in the waist?  I JUST HAD A BABY.

Except the thing is, in my head, I didn't JUST have a baby.  I had a baby fourteen weeks ago.  I was given the OK to run my little heart out, perform bendy yoga moves and lift weights in November.  And since then?  I have gone on exactly three brisk walks.

Three.  I am so ashamed of myself.

Truthfully, it's not for lack of want.  In the mornings I yearn to stretch my legs and take a few laps around the neighborhood while listening to Christina Aguilera.  I actually dream about that pocket of time and how good it would feel.

And yet...I can't do it.  I don't do it.

There's always something else to be done.  Granted, it is getting better.  But the truth is that before my maternity leave was over I was constantly choosing and prioritizing what to do with my time.  A lot of my day was whittled away with Claire.  I was making decisions like Shower?  Or eat lunch?  Because it was likely there would not be an opportunity for both.  It was a wonderful day, but she knows how to make things all about her.

I can take care of running the household with Claire. Groceries, cleaning, showering, laundry - I can do all of that with her by my side.  It was nice.

But what I can't do with Claire in tow is exercise.  It was very cold for the back half of my maternity leave, thus nixing walks.  I have never been one for living room aerobics; what I really enjoy is running.   I don't have a jogging stroller and I'm not sure I can find the time to use one now that I'm back at work.  (Plus, it's still winter and gets dark very early.  Am thinking about buying one this spring.) 

I could leave her with Chris for an hour in the evenings while I go to the gym and run on the treadmill.  But I don't want to sacrifice any MORE of my time with her.  Then there's the whole "She gets hungry unexpectedly" thing. (Also getting better, but still not 100% predictable.)

And yes - Chris could give her a bottle.  But that actually sucks MORE time.  I'd have to pump for 20 minutes at some point to leave him with milk so I could get out for an hour.

And that's just a whole other problem.  Breastfeeding complicates leaving her anywhere on a regular basis.  Yes, she goes to day care and takes bottles there but that's totally unavoidable.  I am fiercely protective of my ability to nurse her and I see any additional regular disruptions as a problem I just don't want to tangle with. 

I'm not interested in adding MORE time in my day to pump.

Unfortunately, I see leaving the house for an hour at the gym as a luxury of time that I can't afford.  I'd rather spend time with Claire.  I would rather get groceries so we can eat.  I'd rather vacuum and have a clean house.  I'd rather do laundry to make sure we have clean clothes.   These things always win when I put them head-to-head with working out.

I can get away without going to the gym but WE HAVE TO EAT DINNER EVERY NIGHT.

Now I'm even more time crunched that I'm back at work and it's even tougher to justify the time.  I want to come home and spend time with my family rather than "waste" an hour away from them - when I've been away from them all day.  I'm already making this huge sacrifice of time.  If I give up ANOTHER hour every day I'm left with hardly anything.  I don't have another hour to give up!  When did time become my most precious commodity?

WHY IS THIS SO DAMN DIFFICULT? 

I am aware that what I am wrestling with is a definition.  Once I "decide" that my body is just as important as these other necessities then I will reprioritize and make it happen.  Life will go on and we will manage.

But in the meantime I still have lots of clothes that don't fit and my closet isn't a happy place.  I want my old body back, but it seems that I don't want it enough to really work for it.

How pathetic is that?  For some reason, I can't make myself a priority. 

We're trying. And we're doing ok at this.

It is getting easier.

Today Claire gave one of her caregivers a HUGE smile when we got there.  M. greeted her with "Good morning Miss Claire!" and Claire smiled wide and buried her head in my shoulder - all the while looking at her sheepishly.  The only other person she does that with is my mom.

And since I know that Claire lacks the social skills to smile politely, I took that as a good sign.  She's recognizing these women as part of her "people" and she likes them.

We are getting better at getting out the door in the morning.  Claire is effervescently happy in the mornings and this makes things easier.  She watches me with curious interest as I put my makeup on and I babble to her about mascara and how there's a new IT mascara every quarter but the best one, the best one ever, is Maybelline Great Lash and it has been that way for decades and I will buy her a tube of it when she's 16 and not a moment before.

(Really, I tell her things like this.)

We choose an outfit for the day together and since Claire derives a peculiar joy from being dressed and undressed she very much enjoys this part of our day.  Sometimes I put her in several outfits until I decide we have one that both fits and look adorable.

About that.  The clothes?  I feel a high school-like need to make sure my daughter is the cutest, most adorably dressed baby in the room.  I have this theory that the cutest baby in the room will get the most attention.  And since Claire just loves to be dressed and seems to have a never-ending store of patience for "arms in/arms out/ legs in/legs out" (seriously, it's like this Very Fun Game for her), I'm taking advantage.  Sometimes we try on several outfits before we find one we like.

When we get there in the mornings I'm usually feeling a little proud of myself by this point.  No tantrums.  On schedule.  Nothing forgotten at home.  We're usually one of the first babies there, which I also feel is a good thing.  If I can get her there early and pick her up early she'll get more attention than if she's there mostly when EVERYONE is there and vying for attention at the same time.

And since I am such a super star at our mornings, I have been nursing her there before I leave.  This is good for two reasons.  It lets me get in an additional nursing session with her/mother-baby bonding/keep milk supply up/less bottles to clean.  It also lets me sit quietly in the corner and sort of observe how everyone interacts.  So far, I like what I see.

However, the truth about group child care is that it's really just controlled chaos.  The care providers obviously enjoy children but their reality is that they're trying to keep everyone fed, diapers changed and not screaming.  There's a 1:3 ratio in her room, which I hear is pretty good.  But because of that there's no way she's being snuggled with or talked to or played with nearly as much as I have been when I was at home.

This stings.

Because while I know that she's getting good care I suspect it's not great care.  The best care.  The kind of care I can give her.

(And no, I cannot hire a Nanny.  Do you KNOW what a Nanny costs?  I looked into that and I thought, "Hmm.  I should quit my job and be a Nanny."  Unfortunately, that is not an option that would work for us.)

So yes, it's getting better.  But it's tough to only see her for a few hours a day.  I can't help but be overly aware of the clock ticking away the months, weeks and days of her babyhood.  I am upset that I don't know what she's interested in this week, don't know how much she smiled this week, don't know what amused her this week.  I am sad that I am missing one of my favorite parts of the day - when she wakes up from a nap and gives me the biggest smile you've ever seen.

And just when I get teary and frustrated and am close to demanding we start to give things up so I can stay at home...I'm working from home tomorrow and my part-time schedule gives me a half day on Friday followed by the weekend.  She'll be home for 4 days.  My job really comes through for me with its flexibility and family-friendly atmosphere.

And then I think, "Maybe we can make this work.  Maybe we can have it both ways."

Maybe?

That truck full of Mommy Guilt? Yeah, back it up right over here.

Yesterday, my first day back at work, went better than I expected it to.  And by that, I mean that I did not cry.

You hear that everyone? I DID NOT CRY.  (In the morning that is.  I cried that night.  But everyone told me the tears would come in the morning so I feel that I WIN.)  Here's how our day went:

6 am - Claire wakes up, mercifully later than normal.  I feed her.  I make a latte and drink it with new appreciation for coffee.  We say goodbye to Chris who begins his 40 mile trek to work in the dark.

630 am - I get dressed.  I showered the night before which turned out to be a smart call.  I dress Claire. 

7 am - I load the eleventy-thousand bags I seem to need for our day in the car.  I put Claire in the car.  We leave the house.

701 am - Oh Noes!  Freezing rain!  There might be ice on the road!  Must drive 20 mph the entire way.  People are driving stupid.  TAKES FOREVER to drive 8 miles.

730 am - Arrive at day care facility.  (Have decided that "day care" is a dirty phrase.  Much prefer "school" even though "school" for a three-month-old is a totally ridiculous idea.  It sounds better to me though.)  Check her in, meet and greet the care providers (all very nice and loving ladies) and other moms/babies who are there.  Go through Claire's routine, unpack her things.  Explain The Bottle Situation.  Feed her.  Kiss her goodbye.  Walk out door.

9 am - Arrive at work.

11 am - I go visit Claire and find out that she drank a bottle at 10!  Happily!  Hooray!  Bottle Situation seems to have resolved self.  I feed her again since I'm there.  She promptly falls asleep until 230.

330 pm - I pick her up for the day.  (I had arranged for a short first day back.)  We go home and I proceed to crash out - completely exhausted.  We play for a bit.

6 pm - She falls asleep and stays there until 130 am even though I tried to wake her up to eat at 10 pm.

So that was our day.  On the good side, she drank a bottle and that drama is over.  (Such an anti-climactic resolution on that one, no?)  She seemed to be happy.  On the bad side, did you notice how painfully little time we spent together?  SO LITTLE.  Just thinking about it again makes me tear up.

But here's the rub:  When I was at work, sitting at my desk?  I liked it.  I enjoyed myself.  I had fun.  Being at work is interesting and stimulating.  I like my job an awful lot.  Spending time as an adult is nice!

It was only when I picked her up and we went home that I was overcome with thirty metric tons of Mommy Guilt.  It was an inescapable feeling of failure - like I was trading time with my daughter for time at work.

This is the phrase keeps repeating in my head, like one of those tickers on cable news: Nobody was ever on their deathbed and said, "You know what?  I wish I had spent more time at work."

This is what I am afraid of:  That I will make this decision to continue working and in 5 years when she's not a baby at all any more and is about to go to school on her own anyway I will think, "Wow.  I wish I had stayed home with her.  Too late for that, huh?" 

I am petrified by the idea of Regret.

It's true that she's only young once.  I feel a tremendous need to maximize time, create memories, savor minutes.  She is changing at a rapid pace and while I know that I have DECADES in front of me to enjoy her company, she is only tiny once, only smiles like this once, only learns how to do things the first time once.

I feel like I am being forced to make an impossible evaluation: to put a monetary value on what I think spending time with Claire is worth.  Make no mistake, this is all about me.  Claire is fine.  She won't remember these early years and she will be fantastic and smart and lovely whether I stay at home or if I work.

This is about me and what I want my experience as a mother to be.  Do I want to stay at home and parent our child, smother her with love and derive joy out of housework, meal-planning and taking care of my husband? 

Or do I want to be a working mom, grow as a professional, continue the substantial investment I've made in my skills and contribute to the household bottom line - perhaps ensuring a better future for us all?  We're young, the economy is in a shambles.  Shouldn't we take the money and stash it away while we can?  Rainy days? Compound interest?  That sort of thing?  Isn't that the smart play?

It feels so selfish to even consider staying at home.

The value of staying at home is not subject to the same metrics that being employed is.  There's no way to put a figure on it or say "I had $500 worth of enjoyment as a Mommy today!"  Since I can't see it in black and white or in a neat list of logical reasons that lead to a clear conclusion I feel paralyzed with indecision. 

I'm stuck.  I don't want to give up my awesome job where they happen to pay me (it's both thrilling and unbelievable to be paid for something you love doing), but I don't want to spend less time with my family and be frazzled and overcome by laundry and dishes on the weekends.  (I'm not even sure that's the fate that awaits us but I do know that it's not a lifestyle I'd enjoy.)

I have always been a big believer in the idea that when it's time to make a tough choice, the answer will be clear to you.  That is, it's not worth fretting about The Choice before you need to make it.  When the time comes the path will present itself and it will feel right and be very, very obvious.  If I was a religious person I might say that it was like God showing me the way.

But I'm here now.  I want to make The Choice.  And I can't make it.  It's not clear.  I don't know.

I feel that I can't make the right decision (whatever that is) and that both ways will lead me down a path of uncertainty that I'm not entirely comfortable with.

Maybe it's like The Matrix.  "There is no spoon." 

There is no right decision?  Both are ok?

Or perhaps, more likely, it's simply not time for me to make The Choice.  I need to give my new schedule a chance to work itself out and give my family an opportunity to see life both ways. 

I need to see both sides of the coin before picking one.  Too bad that in the meantime I'm giving myself all this grief over it.