Thoughts on working motherhood

Some humorous thoughts on working motherhood excerpted from workingmom.about.com:

You know you're a working mom when...

You call your time spent commuting back and forth to work "me time”.

I cannot tell you how many times I have sat down on the train, pulled out a book, and thought that exact same thing: “Finally, twenty minutes to myself, how nice.” Also, how sad. I think Mommy needs an afternoon off to spend time alone.

You know you're a working mom when...

Racing to the post office, dry cleaners, bank and grocery store on your lunch hour feels luxurious because you don't have a tantrum-throwing five (or two!) year-old in tow.

I don’t know about you, but I DREAD running errands with Noah. The in and out of the car seat, the battle with the puffy winter jacket, the whining over wearing a hat/sitting in the shopping cart/ the constant refrain of ”DO NOT LET GO OF MOMMY’S HAND IN THE PARKING LOT FOR THE LOVE OF (insert diety here)”. It’s enough to make me pick him up later at school just to get these errands done alone and in peace.

You know you’re a working mom when…

you wake up at 6 am and return to bed a 11 PM and really cannot remember what happened in the middle of this.

I sometimes worry that I may have mistakenly hit a pedestrian or run a red light on my drive to the train in the mornings…that’s how on auto-pilot I am. Some days I think it’s a miracle we all make it home in one piece with our clothes on.

You know you're a working mom…

When at work, someone tries to "guilt you" into doing something. They are amateurs. Your kids are experts. Also when you hide the last snickers bar in the crisper of the office fridge.

No one knows how to guilt me better than my own kid and he’s only two. He’s also a master bargainer. “Mommy, if you read one more book, I will love you forever and ever.” “Mommy? Are you mad at me? I love you so much, don’t be mad at me.” “Mommy, if I eat one more bite of dinner, I can have a special treat!”

You know you're a working mom when…

On a Sunday morning, after you shower, put on make-up, and dry your hair, your child asks if you’re going to work.

Noah did this to me yesterday. Clearly I need to get dressed more often on the weekends…and not in yoga pants and a headband to hold back my messy hair.