Considerations of a 5 year old

Last night at dinner, a profound thing happened. As a busy mother, these moments of deep reflection appear at the most random of times. When the noise of life quiets down, truths flow with relative ease. In this case, it was my sweet 5 year old Macey who instigated me to reflect heavily on life and parenting.

During a lull in the conversation, my Macey turned to me with a serious expression and said, "You know, Mandy from my class. Her mom is a teacher at my school. She is always there with Mandy every day after school." And then the look in her eyes, so soulful and mature for such a tiny human being. I answered her, "Yes, baby. I know." She looked at me with fortitude. "I mean, every day mom. She's there every day after school." I could see the lines of worry creasing her brow, so I probed her. "Yes. That's wonderful. Why are you telling me this?"

The awkward shift in her tiny body and her serious eyes revealed to me the real question that she was too uncomfortable to verbalize: Mom, why aren't you home every day after school with me?

No matter how much I asked her why she wanted to tell me this, she wouldn't say it. She wouldn't just come out and call into question why our situation isn't the same, a situation that she sometimes longs for. I could see through her the same little girl I once was who felt too guilty to say to my mom, "Why can't I have the same designer jeans that the other girls have? Why can't we go on vacations like my friends? Why can't we afford to send me to sleep away camp?" These were questions that plagued my mind as a child that I never would have said to my mother because I knew the pain she felt from sacrificing financial comfort to stay at home full time with her children. I knew that saying it out loud would have made my mom feel terribly guilty, so I kept those thoughts tightly guarded in my own mind and heart. But I never forgot them.

And that brought to the forefront of my mind the word that every parent lives with on a daily basis: sacrifice. We all have them and we all make them based on what we have decided is best for our families. And, it is not only us that makes these sacrifices but also our children. So mature and so all knowing even as babies.

Maybe it is the fear of poverty that pushes me to work as hard as I do. I will never forget my mom counting dollars at the grocery store every week, trying to stretch an already stretched budget just a little farther. I would never ask for something extra at the store because I knew my mom had to say no and it broke her heart. I'll never forget the look of worry in her eyes every spring when the tuition rates for the upcoming school year came out and how she would silently research alternative cheaper schools in case she just couldn't swing it the next year. I'll never forget how my mom push started her car when it was broken and she couldn't afford to fix us so she could drop us off at school. And, I'll never forget that look she got when a letter from school would come home about some amazing travel experience that was never an option for our family's budget. I bore the brunt of these stresses because I didn't want to make her feel any worse than she already did. The sacrifices my parents made for us were boundless and unconditional, but they were by no means easy to make.

But, the returns were also boundless. My mom never missed a single school event. She attended every single school party, field trip, and sporting event. With three busy children, this was no easy feat, but she made it happen. For every cent she stressed over she had the peace of mind that she would miss nothing in our lives. My dad's sacrifices were just as intense for he worked so much that, at times, he became a stranger in his own house as he spent more time at his office than he did in the home he struggled to pay for. His guilt was the polar opposite: he provided but at the cost of missing out on almost everything, especially in the early years. My parents were masters at balancing and teamwork, things I have learned are crucial for the survival of a family. This was a legacy that was left to me and one that has heavily impacted every decision I make as a parent.

While my daughter may wonder why I am not home with her every day after school, I know at some point she will recognize the valuable gifts she is being granted despite her sacrifices as a child with a working mother. I watch every day the incredible bond that my children have with their father, a father who serves the role of "stay at home mom" on the evenings that I am at my office until 10pm. Over the years as their dad has single-handedly managed cooking dinner, helping with homework, reading books, and getting everyone ready for bed, my son and daughters are seeing that both mom and dad can do everything as long as they work as a team. They are watching their parents balance the demands of raising three children and two full time jobs, something that is challenging and exhausting on a daily basis. I know that the things I miss out on are granting my husband the unique opportunity of experiencing things he never would have experienced if I was always home, and it is granting my children the opportunity to nurture strong, intimate, independent relationships with both of their parents.

I may not be able to shelter my children from the strains of life, but I can teach them that they have the power to make their own choices, to pick their battles. It may not be easy, but every sacrifice leads to an incredible gift that very possibly could have otherwise gone undiscovered.

After the girls went to bed, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I stopped doing everything that needed to be done, and I went and laid in bed with them. After I climbed into bed with my sweet Macey Rae and snuggled with her until she feel asleep, I knew that even though I can't be there every day after school everything will be alright.