post

Motherhood And Careers: Stop the Judging

When I was growing up, stay-at-home moms were the norm. My own mother stopped working when my brother and I entered the picture, and apart from a brief part-time stint at a bank when I was a teenager, she never re-entered the workforce. In those days, most workplaces were strongly male-dominated, and my mother and her contemporaries were educated at a time when options for women were limited. In any case, my father’s salary was generous enough to allow my mother to stay home.

Today, the world is quite different. With a few rare exceptions, women have the same options as men where it comes to career choices. With a burgeoning child care industry to make things easier, many mothers are choosing to balance careers with parenting and family obligations. For some it’s not a choice: many families need two incomes in order to survive.

While the ability to choose has, I believe, been good for women, it has had the effect of dividing mothers into two camps: those who stay home and those who don’t. Most of the mothers I know are quite willing to live and let live, and recognize that the choices they make might not be right for other families. But both groups have members that level insults and judgments at one another.

Having been on both sides of the coin, I have been on the receiving end of insults from all directions. As a stay-at-home mom who didn’t have two nickels to rub together, I was accused of being lazy and unambitious, as if I was sitting on my couch doing nothing all day. I was told that I was taking advantage of the “luxury of staying home with the children” when I should have been working and earning a living to provide for my family.

In another blog post, I might discuss just how luxurious it is to spend all day, every day with a baby and a toddler. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

As a mom who worked outside the home, I was told that I was dumping my kids at daycare and letting strangers raise my sons. “No mother has to work,” the holier-than-thous suddenly started spouting. “All you have to do is cut back a little and you’ll be able to live on one income.”

I hate to break it to you, but watching kids for a few hours a day during the week does not equate to raising them. And if you want me to cut back, I can do that. It’ll just mean not feeding my kids or buying them new shoes when they outgrow their old ones, but you know, no biggie.

I am in a different group now, a relatively new group that is gaining traction: the work-at-home moms. These moms are the ones who run businesses from their homes. We tend to be on the receiving end not of insults, but of envy. Apparently, we are “lucky” to be able work and be with our children at the same time. People envisage us working peacefully while Junior sits quietly on the carpet beside us playing with his Lego.

The reality, of course, is very different. This is what I look like when I’m working:

DSC_0273

When there’s not a child jumping on my head, there are two children wrestling with each other or seeing who can scream the loudest. More often than not, the bulk of my work happens at night, after the kids are asleep. It works out all right. I mean, I don’t need to sleep myself, do I?

Here’s the thing: why do we even bother to make the distinction? Whether you stay home with the kids or go out to work, whether you work out of choice or economic necessity, does it really matter? Shouldn’t we be less concerned about judging the choices of other moms and more concerned about doing what’s right for our own families? Shouldn’t we embrace the differences in how we raise our kids instead of trying to shoehorn everybody into the same way of thinking?

What do you think? Is the difference between stay-at-home moms, work-outside-the-home moms and work-at-home moms important?

This is an original post by Kirsten Doyle. Photo credit to the author.

post

If I Could Do Anything…

wordcloud

Imagine for a moment that we live in a world where anything is possible. Money is no object, there are no stupid politics to get in the way, and logistics are never an issue.

If I could do anything…

… all children with autism would receive autism intervention therapy, be it IBI, Floortime, or any other methodology.

… all children with autism would have IEP’s that truly address their goals, and teachers who actively help the child work towards those goals.

all siblings of children with autism would have access to programs and activities just for them, so that they could have fun with other kids who understand what it’s like.

… all autism families would get to go on vacations to autism-friendly places, where the parents could get an occasional break.

… children and teens with autism would never be bullied.

… every kid with autism would have easy access to sensory equipment, like swings and weighted blankets.

… every kid with autism would have a dog.

… big box stores like Wal-Mart would have “quiet” shopping areas, where the fluorescent lighting is less harsh, there are fewer people and the checkout areas aren’t so intimidating.

… ditto for airports, which would also provide special boarding for autism families.

… all autism parents would have the financial means to attend conferences and parent training and information sessions.

… autism parents would stop bickering over the causes of autism and judging each others’ vaccination and nutritional choices.

… the general public would have easy access to information about autism that is realistic and devoid of sensationalism.

… people with autism wouldn’t wander off and later be found dead – everyone would be safe, always.

… people with autism would have the same opportunities as anyone else to reach their full potential, whatever that might be.

… autism parents would be able to grow old without constantly worrying about the future, because they would know that their kids would be taken care of.

… no-one would believe that ridiculous myth that people with autism are incapable of emotion – everyone would be hugged by someone with autism at least once in their lifetime, and they would cry from the absolute beauty of it.

post

Writing: Beyond The Challenges

2012 is shaping up to be a busy year. In the last five months, I have taken an emergency trip to South Africa, run three races, and had my website revamped. I have also participated in two consecutive month-long blogging challenges, ending yesterday.

Today I am publishing a post for the 62nd day in a row. While I have thoroughly enjoyed these opportunities to indulge my passion for writing, I am ready to change the pace for a brief period of time. Blogging every day in addition to holding down a full-time job, parenting two young kids, and training for a half-marathon – well, it can be tiring.

I’m not planning on fading away into the sunset (particularly today, since it’s raining and there will be no sunset). Instead, I am going to work on other parts of my website that I have not had the time to get to yet.

I will be putting together a blogroll (if you would like your blog to be included, send me an email). I will be creating resources pages for the autism and running communities, and once I have made up my mind about the rest of the racing season, I will be updating my list of races.

My actual blogging will take a backseat for the next week or two, but I have lined up some guest writers to take care of that. I am truly excited to bring you some great stories from different walks of life, starting on Monday.

Before I quietly slip out through the side door to get more coffee, I will leave you with some highlights of the last two months of blogging. The posts mentioned below are the ones that have attracted the most views.

Highlights of the Health Activist Writers Month Challenge in April:

In Week 1, I described a conversation I had with my younger son about his understanding of his brother’s autism.

In Week 2, I wrote a letter to my 16-year-old self offering some words of hard-earned wisdom – not that she would listen to an old fogie like me.

Do you ever get stressed out about little things that really don’t matter? In Week 3, I gave myself a bit of advice, the gist of which was to just chill out.

I ran my second race of the season in Week 4, and wrote about how I found the zone.

Highlights of the 2012 Wordcount Blogathon in May:

I keep hearing people talk about how kids with autism are incapable of affection or empathy. In Week 1 of the Blogathon, I decided to try and bust that myth.

In Week 2, my younger son lost his first tooth, in more ways than one. We had to get the tooth fairy to come, even though we didn’t have the actual tooth.

May was Mental Health Awareness Month, and during Week 3 of the Blogathon, there was a Mental Health Blog Party. I wrote about postpartum depression, in hopes that sharing my experiences would help someone.

In Week 4 I wrote about the most precious of gems: those little moments with my family that make me feel like the richest person in the world.

I was feeling introspective for much of Week 5, and wrote about how I made peace with a decision that parents all over the world wrestle with.

The blogging challenges are done – at least for now. But the writing continues, because I will never run out of words.

post

Making Peace With A Tough Choice

I am participating in the 2012 Wordcount Blogathon, which means one post every day for the month of May.

When I went for my six-week postpartum checkup after George was born, my OBGYN raised the question of whether my husband and I were going to have more children. We stared at each other in a perplexed kind of way, shrugged our shoulders and said, “I dunno.”

It was a question that we had honestly given no thought to. George had been an extremely welcome surprise, but he had been a surprise nonetheless. Family planning hadn’t exactly been a key feature in our lives.

When we did talk about it – this topic that we had simply never thought to discuss – we discovered that both of us had always envisaged life with three children. This was good. I thought it was a positive sign that I was with a man who wanted the same number of children as me.

When we decided to try for Baby Number Two, I got very serious about it. I downloaded those free online calendars that tell you what the best dates are to – well, you know. I was going to chart my cycles and keep track of my temperature to tell when I was ovulating.

As it happened, I didn’t need any of that stuff. Just six weeks after we decided we were officially trying to conceive, we got a big fat plus sign on the pregnancy test. Several months after that, James came barreling his way into the world like a cannonball.

Two down, one to go.

By the time we were ready to try for Baby Number Three, though, things had gotten complicated. James was almost two, and George, who was four, had been diagnosed with autism. We were recalibrating our lives after discovering that we were special needs parents, and I was still trying to find my way out of the terrible darkness of postpartum depression.

What if our third child had autism? Would it be fair for us, knowing that we weren’t going to be around forever, to leave James with the responsibility of having two siblings with special needs?

We were so conflicted about whether or not to have another child that we went to see a geneticist. The DNA testing did not confirm a genetic link to autism, but it did not rule it out either. The geneticist turned to the very detailed questionnaires that we had completed. Based on my own developmental history, which was almost identical to George’s, it seemed not only possible but likely that I was on the spectrum myself.

The geneticist advised that in spite of the inconclusive DNA test results, there was reason to believe that George’s autism might be genetically based. We were looking at a 12-15% probability that any other child we had would have autism.

This created a problem. My husband and I found ourselves on opposite sides of the fence. He was very concerned about the 15% probability. I, on the other hand, tried to focus on the other percentage: the 85% probability that the child we had would not have autism.

We flip-flopped back and forth for several months, torturing ourselves with possibilities and what-ifs. We were torn between doing what was right for the kids we already had, and doing what both of us had always wanted. We really could have done with a crystal ball at around that time.

In the end, it was more than George’s autism that made the decision for us. I was already at an age where there’s a higher risk of having a baby with Downs Syndrome. I was finally starting to see a pinprick of light at the end of the postpartum depression tunnel. We had just successfully potty-trained James, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to start a new two-year cycle of diapering.

Most importantly, I realized that I didn’t need more children. The two that I had were absolutely perfect. When I came home from work at the end of each day and hugged them, I felt complete. I did not feel that there was piece missing – a piece that would be filled by another child.

When I am sitting on the floor in my living room, with one kid on my lap and the other jumping on my back, I know that we made the right choice. I know that my family is whole.

Have you had to wrestle with the question of whether to have more children? What was the deciding factor for you?

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/joehowell/2282930348/. This picture has a creative commons attribution license.)