Working vacation
By Ashley Walker (Contact)
Originally published 01:48 p.m., May 30, 2008
Updated 01:48 p.m., May 30, 2008
IT’S MY FIRST official day “back to work.”
But before I go any further I should probably define some terms:
By “back to work” I only mean I’m working in an office setting for part of the week. My day job of working for three employers under the age of 8 still exists; I’ve just managed to convince them that if they give me 15 to 20 hours “off” a week, I will be a much better mommy for the other 148.
And by “office setting” I mean in a building that’s pretty much like a second home. That’s just how it is with a family-owned business. The line between work and home is about as unrecognizable to the human eye as the International Dateline.
So, if The Gazette is just a home away from home, I guess that makes going back to work like, well — going on vacation!
And I must admit, in many ways it is.
I know. I know. It’s essentially sacrelegious for any mother to admit that going “back to work” is like going on vacation. It’s more like we’re cheating on our kids, or having an illicit affair at our children’s expense, right?
But there are a few of us out there who need it. And I’m not talking about the paycheck, although that’s nice, too. I suspect when I get my first one, I will feel exactly as I did when I worked my first part-time job at the Dairy Queen 25 years ago — independent and wealthy on $3.35 an hour!
No, there are lots of factors that woo mothers back into the public workplace. A paycheck is sometimes just a bonus.
For me, I knew it was time when after walking my girls into their classrooms several weeks ago, I returned to my car with everything except — Will. I absentmindedly left our 19-month-old in my daughter’s K-4 classroom, and apparently — neither of us seemed to notice!
Mortified at what I had just done, I raced back in to retrieve him and found him happily cooking up something tasty in a plastic kitchen and serving it to three doting little 4-year old girls. He was not missing me a bit.
Now, before you turn me into child protective services, you should know it’s not just my children I’ve been forgetting lately. It’s other things, too: Like when I forgot to turn off my minivan a few weeks ago and left it running in my driveway until Chris arrived home from work. “We could have driven to Amarillo and back on that gas!” he chastised me.
Or, when I left a cup filling up with water in the refrigerator door — for nearly an hour. The kids thought it was great to play in the pool Mommy made on the kitchen floor.
I think I’m losing my mind.
In fact, I just might be — at least some of it. It’s called the “Mommy Brain” syndrome; a condition many mothers find themselves suffering from after years of breast feeding, changing diapers, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, carpooling, watching cartoons and potty training. The creative, productive, intellectual side of our brain apparently goes to sleep while the care-giving quadrant shifts into overdrive. And the only way to wake it up is to wait until our kids graduate, or — go back to work.
I’ve chosen the latter, at least for now. And what better place to stimulate one’s intellectual prowess than a newsroom! Political fodder, late-breaking news, international headlines, financial analysis, thoughtful commentaries, provoking editorials … there’s enough here to stimulate even the sleepiest of minds.
But I’m afraid you will have to bear with me. Shifting gears may be a challenge at first while my brain starts to wake up.
At first, I may feel tempted to write about kids, babies or things about kids and babies. If asked about my “beat” I may hum a bar from High School Musical. Or, when asked to check out the local news I may dig for the Mini-Page.
But I’ll get there.
In the meantime, if you see me around town without my three little ones trailing along, don’t call the authorities. I did leave them somewhere, but this time on purpose.
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