A few nights ago, I took Reva out on an ice cream date. It was the first time I used the word “date” to describe going outside with her, and for whatever reason, it really shifted my perspective. I felt so euphoric to be able to do this. To have the time and the energy and the space to just, take my daughter out for a cone after dinner. How lucky am I?
I do my very best, my very absolute best, to stay off my phone from 5-8 or so, from when she gets home until when she goes to sleep. Working for a startup doesn’t make that easy, but I try. And it is not only for her sake, it’s of course also for my own mental health, and so that I don’t miss all the little things. Moms, you know the ones. The incessant laughter when she recognizes that she can chase the dog around the apartment. The moment she realizes that she can reach the top drawer and help herself to a cookie. The first time she puts her shoes on alone. The teeny tiny moments that you miss if you look away for even a single second.
When she was really little, I remember popping her into the Dock-A-Tot, putting on some classical music, and working for a solid 2 hours while she peacefully napped or stared into space next to me. It was very hard to care for her physically (sleep deprivation, turning into a 24/7 milk buffet, etc) but my mental space was my own. I didn’t have to entertain or engage Reva. I just had to keep her fed and changed. It was stripped down to the absolute bare essentials.
Nowadays, it’s completely reversed. She walks to the ice cream store holding my hand. She tells me what she wants: usually Goldfish, or to listen to Karma Chameleon. When she sees me in the morning, she says “mommy, good morning, wakey up!” From the moment she wakes up until the moment she closes her eyes, she requires 150% of my mental space.
I am on on on on to make her smile, to paint with her, cook with her, play with her, take her on a date. On the one hand, this phase is easier than the newborn phase because I get to sleep for more than 3 hours in a row and my boobs don’t ache or leak. On the other hand, it’s so much harder because of the presence that we both have. She knows if I attempt to plop her somewhere and work. “No mommy, come”she says, as she takes my hand. There is no phoning it in. My time must be split with laser precision or else. When it’s working time I must work, and when it’s Reva time, well, pencils down. And on the days when I muddle the two, it feels like absolute crap because I’m neither here nor there and I fall into bed feeling depleted, and like I let everyone, especially myself, down.
Before I had a child, I thought the solution to all this was simpler. Don’t work! I thought that once I had a child, I would want to stay at home with my baby, if I had the financial privilege to do so. For the first 6 months, I worked on my pizza business, Scraps (RIP.) I worked often, but without urgency. Nothing had to be done right now. Then, when the business folded, I did some light consulting work that was part-time, at best.
I had more time for my family, but mentally, I was not stimulated enough. I was waiting for Brandon to come home so I could ask him what he ate for lunch. I wanted more work, which inevitably, would mean less time for my baby. The timing was such that as I began to work more, my daughter began to need more. And I realized that “the work-life balance” is a complete and utter myth.
Speaking only about myself, when I wasn’t working, I had too much time to roast and puree squash and to stage baby photoshoots. I had clarity and peace of mind, but I didn’t have a challenge in my every day life, which I wanted. So I found the challenge, and now, carving out time for my child is an active pursuit that I have to work at every single day. It doesn’t just happen, this so-called balance, it is a constant give and take. It is an everyday challenge not to check my email while she is taking a bath. To give 100% when I am working and 100% when I am mom’ing. And it is most certainly, a work in progress.
As I clacked away, writing this newsletter, Brandon was feeding Reva breakfast. I had woken up early to write, but I guess she heard me banging every dish in the cupboard to find the french press (coffee!!!) and voila. She woke up as well and so my me (writing) time vanished right before my eyes.
Now Brandon is on the morning shift so that I can write for a few minutes, and I hear her say “Mommy, working.” And in some ways, it makes me very proud, and in other ways, it breaks my heart a little bit. This moment right now, this urge to drop absolutely everything and run to my baby, while also consciously choosing to keep the doors closed so that I can finish my train of thinking, so that I can get the words that are itching to escape me on paper out right this very second. This is the duality of being a working mother. The juggle is real.
Here’s what I loved this week:
These strappy sandals would look very good with a frilly, super girly dress.
Homemade Thai curry puffs are very much speaking to me these days.
This article about religious rituals was an uplifting read. I personally love occasionally observing Shabbat, and wish I did it more often.
On that same note, I also really liked this episode of The Happiness Labs about observing Shabbat with Michelle Obama’s former speechwriter, Sarah Hurwitz.
The best everyday tote, at a reasonable price, now in a few exclusive colors to celebrate 10 years of Cuyana.
The chunky black and tortoise sunglasses I’m wearing in the photo above. My absolute favorite ones.
idk, it just feels like a good time for a horoscope.
My dream dress, which has been following me around the internet all week.
Super intrigued by this vegan frittata made from split peas.
Just the right amount of circusy?
Almost done reading this book about fixed mindsets vs. growth mindsets and it has been a game changer for me. Thank you, Dr.Dweck.
How cool is this iridescent puzzle?
The chunky hoops I’ve been wearing on repeat. Worth every penny of the $24 they cost.
As always, if you loved my newsletter, consider sharing it with a friend!
Big hugs,
Jane