It goes without saying that it’s a challenge to work and be a mother — after all, that’s the focus of Work It, Mom. And hey, parenthood in general is challenging, work-life balance notwithstanding.

I ran across Divine Caroline’s list of the best careers for moms (I’ll list them in a moment) and was intrigued. Sure, the list is from last year, actually, but it stands the test of time. These careers make sense with parenthood. They can be rewarding, both financially and emotionally, and even more importantly, they allow for flexibility. Anyone who’s had to dash out of a meeting to pick up a sick kid from school after a call from the nurse appreciates flexibility.

But … what if your cup of work tea is something else? Most of us don’t choose college majors and then the resulting careers based on what we think might later fit in with future children. (And why should we? Can we move to a society where work life and family life can both be a priority?) The careers on this list are, for the most part, undeniably easier to fit in with a family. Would you switch to one of them, or one like them, to bring more balance to your life?
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Ooh. Just reading that title, “What kind of mother could give up her kids?” has an emotional sting, doesn’t it? It gets you right here — in the heart, in the gut. After all, whyever are we mothers, anyway?

There’s a provocative article in this month’s Marie-Claire that’s been making the internet rounds this past week. Yesterday it made the New York Times. I’m fascinated by the gamut of response to these pieces, often thoughtful, but just as often the response of what clearly hit a nerve. Motherhood is being threatened.

[insert bias here: a year and a month ago I moved 3000 miles away from my children. They now live full-time with their father after two years of joint custody and ten years of stay-at-home motherhood. You can read more about my journey over at Literary Mama.]
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As a kid, I loved summer vacation. Who wouldn’t? No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks, don’t let the school doors hit you on the way out. Summer vacation was great.

Then I became a parent. Suddenly as a working parent I’m juggling summer day care, extra costs of all-day care versus after-school care, kids with nothing to do all day, me trying to come up with new! fun! activities! and I’m hating summer vacation. Hate. Hate. Hate. Even later as a stay-at-home mom I hated it. The days stretched on forever to a chorus of “What are we doing today, Mama?” as if someone had suddenly appointed me Entertainment Director and I’d be expected to wander the Lido Deck with my perky Julie McCoy clipboard and hat. No thanks. I’ll go back to hating summer vacation.

Let’s get rid of it.

Summer vacation is bad for kids anyway.
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My younger daughter is nine. Nine-and-a-half, actually, and her days as a kid are numbered. Girls are hitting puberty earlier and earlier these days, and while I kept Serena away from the hormones in milk and meat that are associated with early puberty when she was younger, she’s, well, not getting any younger. She’s going to get a visit from Aunt Flo, drive in a red car, surf the crimson wave, or ride the red pony soon enough. (Like those euphemisms? There are more. Lots more.)

I had just turned 13. It was the summer between 8th grade and 9th (how fitting, the change from little-girl junior high to big-girl high-school) and a few months before my mom had pulled me aside, handed me a box of maxi pads (how was I going to hide this? The box was as big as our new microwave oven!), and asked if I “needed anything.” That was it. That was The Talk. Thanks, Mom. I guess I can read the side of the box myself.
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Ever have one of those brilliant thoughts when you’re out walking or in the grocery store mindlessly tossing things into your cart or waiting in line to pick the kids up from school or driving home from work?  For me, it happens all the time.  I go, “OMG! I’m brilliant!” and just KNOW it’s so brilliant that OF COURSE I’ll remember it, I mean who would be unable to remember this great idea that will:

1. Save everyone at least an hour a day.
2. Save hundreds of dollars, nay, thousands of dollars. Maybe every DAY, this is so brilliant.
3. Save marriages.  Save LIVES.
4. Get you elected President (after Obama has a go, or maybe even two), or better yet, elected God. No, make that GoddESS. Yeah, Goddess. Has a nice ring to it. You could get t-shirts made…

And then, when you get home, after dealing with dog vomit and homework and dinner and maybe a little TV with a glass of wine and a snuggle on the couch, that brilliant idea just vanishes, POOF, into thin air and reality sets in.

Me too. Except THIS idea is so brill that all that Real Life could not prevent me from presenting it here to you now (get ready): Dads should raise the kids. Let Moms work.
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