My goal in creating this website was to provide a resource for moms. My focus has been on the struggle to balance work and family, which is most logically resolved by working at home. Sounds like a simple solution but, aha, it is far from simple! The following articles by WAHM's are published to provide you with some insight, encouragement, and a few laughs. I am very proud of the strong, competent, witty, whacky, intelligent women who have offered to share their perspectives with us.
Showering as a Work At Home Mom by Jennifer F.
The moment he was born, my showering habits changed. Rushed events, if I was able to GET a shower in the early days I considered myself lucky. Did I remember to wash my hair? I’m too tired to care.
I had gotten used to fitting my showers in while my sweet little guy napped…enjoying my one year of maternity leave afforded me in Canada, I would lounge in my pajamas playing with my son until his first nap, hopping in the shower once he went off to dreamland. I still rushed through them so I could spend some “me” time during the rest of his all too short naps.
Now that I am a work at home mom, showers have become a different beast altogether. Due to my little one’s curiosity and activity level, I am only able to work during his sole remaining daytime nap. If I am to make the most of this small amount of time, I cannot waste it by showering. I must now share the bathroom with my one man wrecking crew.
Behold, the steps involved in cleaning myself on a daily basis:
1. Reinstall the toilet lock that my husband ripped off out of confusion and an inability to remember the instructions when rushing to answer the call of nature.
2. Take the toilet brush and plunger and insert them into the garbage can. Place them outside the bathroom and close the door.
3. Ensure cabinet lock is still secure under the sink.
4. Litter floor with toys in the hopes of entertaining a one year old for 5 minutes.
5. Enter the shower (hopefully remembering to remove clothes). Proceed to wash myself as quickly as possible while my one year old pulls the shower curtain out and gets wet, throws his toys in at me while exclaiming “Oh-oh!”, unravels and eats the toilet paper I forgot to take off the roll, attempts to thwart the toilet lock (and sometimes succeeds), and generally does everything except playing with the toys I left out for him.
6. Finish showering within 5 minutes, turn shower off and towel myself off…then towel my son off.
7. Contemplate putting on make up, laugh at self and open bathroom door to unleash The Hurricane into our bedroom…yanking the plunger and toilet brush filled garbage can out of his hands as he crawls by.
Did I remember to wash my hair? Somedays I’m still too tired to care…
About the Author
Jennifer F. is a work at home mom from
Priority Shift by Liz H.
I was 26, in a seriously committed relationship, owned a house and had the career of my dreams with a non-profit arts organization. I brought art into people’s lives that wouldn’t normally have access to it, which I felt good about. In 2003, my husband and I decided to try to get pregnant with our first child and were successful almost immediately. I continued to work tirelessly throughout my pregnancy, completely devoted to my career. There was a shift in my priorities that I could practically pinpoint to the moment I gave birth to my daughter.
Throughout the first six months of my daughter’s life, I continued to work, though I devoted far less time to working late and volunteered my time much less. My only goal during the day was getting enough work done to allow me to leave early to pick her up from daycare. I had found a wonderful childcare provider who ran the business out of her home. She cared for five children, one of them being her own son, and offered us a very personalized system of caring for our daughter. In my mind, if I couldn’t be home with her every day, Jennifer was the next best thing. Having that level of security in a childcare provider is priceless, so when she informed us that she was pregnant with twins and would have to close her business, I went into a panic. As the days went on and the time to find another childcare provider was drawing near, it suddenly hit me; I could open a daycare, play with kids all day, watch my own child grow up and still bring income to the dinner table every night. I started the process of getting licensed, with the help of Jennifer and the complete support and patience of my husband.
The licensing process, which came outlined in a very organized packet of information I requested from my county’s social services department, included a fire inspection, an inspection by the childcare licensing department, CPR/First Aid, Communicable Diseases and Recognizing Abuse and Neglect training, and obtaining a Sheriff’s Work Permit, which included a full FBI background check. It took us about six months to get through the process while working full time, but all the hard work paid off when I enrolled my first client on July 5, 2005.
In-home childcares offer parents more than just a safe place for their child to be while they are at work. They offer a second home, a second mother, a second family for the child to be engrossed in daily. In many cases, at least in my home, the child is treated as part of the family from the moment they walk in until the moment they leave. Because of lower ratios of children (again, at least in my case), the childcare provider is able to offer a level of care beyond any that is found in a daycare center. We can provide personalized care completely tailored to the parents’ wishes.
In addition to easing parents’ minds about the environment their children are in daily, childcare providers who are also mothers have the ability to be home with their children. There is nothing like hearing your child recite the alphabet, or count to twenty knowing you taught them how. Not to mention knowing your child is in the most enriching and secure environment you could ever imagine for them… their own home.
Do I miss my career and the person I used to be? Sometimes. What I miss most is adult conversation and sitting in a quiet office with a cup of coffee checking my emails. The things I used to identify myself with; power suits, positioning at the conference table, being responsible for a budget larger than two-years’ salary, have been replaced with reading Good Night Moon for the fifth time… in a row, deciphering whose diaper smells like a stink bomb just went off, and trying to remember who ate how much of their lunch so I can report back to their parents. At the end of the day, as I’m scraping the dry spit-up off my face, I decide it was a good day… another good day… because my baby (#2 who just turned 1) called me Dada again while she signed ‘nurse’, my older girl just read Good Night Moon to ME and all the daycare kids had to be dragged out of my house kicking and screaming. I’m sorry for the moms and dads that have to wrestle their children into their car seats at the end of the day, but there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing the reason they're screaming is because they love being in my home.
About the author:
Liz H. is an in-home, licensed childcare provider and mother of two little girls. In her spare time (that happens between 1:30 p.m. and 2 p.m. most days and the fifteen minutes between the time her kids fall asleep and she passes out on the couch) she likes to sew, knit and talk to adults. She shares her life, struggles and accomplishments with her companion and father of her children, Ray, who is of Aztec descent. Together they are raising their children in the native way, attending ceremonies and leading by example. You can read more about their lives at http://madreadoptiva.blogspot.com .
Struggling With Working From Home by Becky
Not wasting 2 hours of my day sitting in rush hour traffic
Not having to fill my gas tank every 3rd day, especially when gas prices hit $3 per gallon
Being able to work in my pjs
Spending every waking moment with my one-year-old
Cons
Ever try to type on your laptop with a little one's finger that is like a magnet to the power button as well as every other button on the keyboard?
Eat lunch? Yeah right, with what time?
Never "leaving" my work behind
Spending every waking moment with my one-year-old
Now let me comment on that last item. Sounds horrible, how can that be a "con", right? Well, it isn't. And yet it is… It's funny, everyone says they envy me because I work from home. And believe me, I am more grateful than I can ever put into words. I wouldn't trade this last year for anything. And yet, sometimes I think that people think it's so easy and that I'm so lucky. And to them I say, yes, I am lucky. But it is a hundred times more challenging than going into the office to work. Sometimes I really miss the simple things like chatting with coworkers while I get myself a snack in the lunchroom. Or going to the bathroom by myself. Being able to seriously concentrate without ANY distractions. Conference calls become my huge stress - can I get her nap to correspond with the conference call? If I can't, can I keep her happy and content so she doesn't make much noise? Having a screaming child while you're trying to be professional just doesn't work. I miss being able to go out for lunch with coworkers. I feel like I've lost my identity. I'm like a SAHM but without the ability to go to playgroups because they're all during work hours.
I went into the office last week and 3 different people said to me ,"do you still work here?". Now keep in mind, I work for a large company, more than 100 people in that office alone, but it shows how "forgotten" I've become. I feel so disconnected. I long for adult conversation. I hate the guilt. If my daughter is having an especially bad day and needs more attention I feel guilty because I'm not as productive with my work. When I have a lot of work to do I feel guilty that I'm not more interactive with my baby. I feel guilt that she watches more tv than I'd like. At those times all I have to do is gaze into my baby's big dark eyes, snuggle with her as I rock her to sleep, and it's all worth it. But boy, I sure do miss "massage Fridays"…
About the author:
Becky is a 31-year-old married mommy of a one-year-old daughter. She has been working from home full-time for the past year as a Survey Administrator for a large consulting firm. In her "spare" time she likes to surf the net, communicate with other mommies, read trashy romance novels, ignore the piles of laundry and dirty dishes, and try to catch up on her sleep.
Children, Pumpkins, and Loving Yourself by Theresa Ragan
Worst idea of my life.
Five o’clock would roll around and all these mothers would pick up their kids, eager to see their children after being away from them for eight long hours. These ladies would be dressed in silky nylons, fitted suits and matching high heels. Every hair on their head looked combed and cared for. With my own straggly hair tangled in a rubberband and with spit-up on my t-shirt and sweatpants, I would say goodbye, and then glance at the clock and wish someone would pick up my kids. After one year, and with a newfound appreciation for daycare workers, I quit the childcare business and scrambled happily back into the workforce. I sipped coffee and listened to the radio on the way to work. Ah, the simple pleasures… I wore nice clothes and curled my hair. I took long leisurely lunches. It wasn’t long before I, too, was eager to see my kids after eight hour days of doing fulfilling work that earned me pats on the back and a paycheck.
After the fourth child came along in 1992, my husband and I realized we could no longer afford daycare. Because I earned substantially less money than he did, I had to quit. I didn’t want to give up my job. I liked working, but I didn’t have a choice. For the first few years at home, more than a few working mothers with “real jobs” asked me to pick up their kids for them or take their child home for a few hours after school. I was sort of doing daycare again, only this time I wasn’t getting paid. I went on so many fire station field trips that I came to know the firemen on a first name basis. I remember thinking I would die happy if I never saw another pumpkin farm. When I took my fourth child to kindergarten, I was the only mother who didn’t need a tissue after dropping off their kid. Chaos became my middle name. Instead of pulling the car over to the side of the road to stop the kids from squabbling, I learned that the fastest way to end a dispute, which was usually over a particular object, was to take the item and toss it out the window. The last item I remember throwing out the window and onto the highway was a necklace my mother had given my daughter. Needless to say, my kids learned to share.
With all four kids finally enrolled in school, I figured this was the time to fulfill my dream of writing a book. Have you ever tried writing a one page letter, let alone a 400 page romance while juggling four kids’ schedules? I knew that I needed to learn how to focus, which meant I had to learn to tune out all that noise. Five years later, I finished my first novel. It’s easy to pick out the scenes that I wrote while the kids were around. In the first paragraph my heroine is sweet and caring and by the next she’s verbally ripping the hero to shreds. I never sold that book, but if nothing else, it was therapeutic.
My kids are now 27, 20, 18, and 15. Only a year ago, I was counting down the days when they would all be off to college. “One down, three to go,” was my mantra. But then January 2007 came along and I watched The Secret DVD and for some reason the positive message hit home. WHAM! Suddenly the grass was greener and my days were brighter. I decided right then and there that I was going to stop wishing my kids away. I loved them and I knew they loved me, but I wasn’t living in the moment. I wasn’t appreciating all the wonderful things my children brought into my life and into the stories I wrote. I started thinking positive. Most importantly, I began to put myself first, which seemed selfish, but in the end, proved to be the best thing I ever did for ME and for my family. Loving myself allowed me to love my kids more than I ever thought possible. I had no idea it worked that way. Instead of letting a dirty house ruin my day, I let the dust on my furniture serve as a reminder of how lucky I was to have a roof over my head. Weeds no longer bothered me. I let weeks go by before I pull them just because I can. I worry less. I smile more.
My two sons recently moved to New York City. My oldest daughter just moved back home after getting a taste of reality. My youngest daughter began her journey through high school last month. I start the day with a long walk, a hike through the mountains, or a bicycle ride around the lake. I am in the best shape of my life. My husband and I have found each other again after twenty-something years of putting kids first. Parenting is the hardest thing my husband and I have ever done. Every child is unique with their own needs and their own passions. I only wish I could go back and start over and do it better…do it right. I would be patient. I would not yell. I would still have my mother’s necklace. I would listen better…and longer. I would read to the kids more often. I would take their little hand and skip through the pumpkin farm and let them pick out the biggest pumpkin in the whole darn pumpkin patch. I wouldn’t worry about the dirty house and the pile of soiled laundry. I would use the dusty furniture to leave love notes for my husband. Mostly, I would love myself and teach my kids to do the same.
Theresa Ragan has been a stay at home mom for fifteen years now. She has two boys and two girls between the ages of 15 and 27. She contributes regularly to the Wet Noodle Posse at www.wetnoodleposse.com Besides spending time with her family, she enjoys playing the piano and has completed seven romance novels, two of which are making the rounds in New York City. You can see what she’s writing at www.theresaragan.com.