Being a parent has been the best choice for me, but it isn’t necessarily for everybody. That’s why it didn’t surprise me at all to see this week’s TIME cover, which looks at the choice more American couples are making — to purposefully live their lives without children. I don’t think that choosing to not be a mother is selfish. I actually think that it can do the world a ton of good.
I agree with Jeannette, I believe in a woman's right to choose. I believe that not all women are supposed to be mothers. I believe that motherhood was the best thing that happened to me (even though it wasn't exactly in my life plan). And I feel sorry for the women in the Time article. Not sorry that they don't have children - sorry that they feel the need to justify their reasons why they don't have/want children. Still the great debate continues. Can we or can't we have it all. And what does having it all really mean? Does 'all' even matter? We don't have to look to a magazine cover to see women who appear to have it all - all we have to do is log on to Facebook or Pinterest. Social media allows us to peer into the window of other women's lives and wonder how do they do it? They either have great jobs or they're stay-at-home moms or they have the best of both worlds - they are work-at-home moms. They live in the right neighborhoods, have the 'perfect' kids or the 'perfect' partner. They drive the nice car and eat the right foods. Everything matches and they're exactly the size they're supposed to be. Their hair and nails are always done. They wear designer clothes that I can't pronounce.They go on date nights, girls night out and romantic weekend getaways. Their homes are out of the pages of a Pottery Barn catalog - they can light candles without worrying about a kid setting themselves on fire. They craft and scrapbook and bake their own bread and do all sorts of amazing things with their kids that make me feel like a slacker mom. Their kids are on the honor roll, have dates to prom and get scholarships to college. They have empty nest syndrome, enjoy their retirement and/or surrounded by adorable grandchildren. Time magazine makes me wonder: what about autism parents?Do we, can we or will we ever have it all? I know many mothers who quit their jobs to stay home with their kids. Some autism moms home school. And when they don't, they wonder if they should. We spend hours researching, reviewing, learning about autism, therapies, medications and legal rights. We can easily spend more time on the phone fighting with insurance companies than chatting with our BFFs. We constantly worry about our kids and their future. Will they have friends? Will they fall in love? Have a job? Live independently? We want nothing more than to be there for our child, to live forever or secretly hope to outlive our child by a day (or less).
What about an autism mom like me?
I work (full-time outside of the home) because I have to and The Boy goes to a school I had to fight to get him into. As an autism mom, I am exhausted and overwhelmed. There isn't a night when I don't lay awake in my bed worrying over all the What Ifs and Will Hes. I look at the Time cover and I wonder if I will ever lay like that on a beach with The Husband. Our date nights are so few and far between - will a romantic weekend getaway ever be a possibility? Will we be able to relax and enjoy our golden years? Will we ever have a 'childfree' life even after our child grows up? I don't know. Honestly? The not knowing makes me sad. My life is far from perfect. I have more than my fair share of stress, disappointment and heartache. By some women's standards, I don't have it all. Not many women would trade their sexy heels to step into my sensible flats. And that's okay because I wouldn't trade in my flats for their heels either. So when I read a headline like When having it all means not having children - I have to check myself and take inventory ofwhat I do have. I have a husband who adores me and genuinely supports me in every way. I have a beautiful boy who lights up my world even on my darkest day. I have parents, family and friends who accept The Boy just as he is. I have a job that pays the bills (and provides health insurance) and a few freelance gigs that keep me sane. I have a comfortable apartment that's a size I can manage to keep clean. We have a car that can get us from point a to point b. And I have a few cute pair of sensible flats.
I never wanted to be a mother. It wasn't something I dreamed about or planned for. Motherhood, for me, just happened. But being a mother - being The Boy's mother - has given me more than I could have ever imagined. I don't have many material things but I have the things that matter most. I don't have to have it all. Because I'm happy with what I have right now. What I have is more than enough.
Autism Speaks has just launched a new campaign targeting the Latino community to raise awareness. And I am grateful. When The Boy was first diagnosed, I had no idea what autism was. I didn't think it could happen to us. Earlier this week we "celebrated" our 5 year autism anniversary. Five years ago there were so many maybes.
Maybe he's just being a boy. Maybe I'm not doing enough. Maybe he'll talk tomorrow. Maybe he's not ready. Maybe I'm worrying for nothing. There were too many maybes and too many people whispering them in my ear. I started blogging because I could not see a family that looked like mine in any book I read. Autism, any kind of disability, isn't something Latinos openly talk about. We have been conditioned to be ashamed of it. To keep it to ourselves. We are scared of the label. When The Boy was first diagnosed my mother couldn't believe it. "El no es asi," she said. (He is not like that.) And then she said that I shouldn't tell anyone. But it's important for parents to talk about. We need to feel like we are not alone. We cannot expect communities to be accepting if we are not open. If you have any maybe in your head - go to your doctor, ask for a referral to a specialist.
I don't always agree with Autism Speaks, I'm not looking for a cure for The Boy. I want him to be understood. I want our community to recognize the signs of autism. To accept it. And to get the services they need.
I haven't read Sheryl Sandberg's book, Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead, yet but over the last few weeks - I've read several articles in response to Lean In. I've read so many inspiring Lean In stories. And it's made me reflect on my own life and this journey I've been on. Nearly twenty years ago, I graduated high school, uncertain of what I wanted to do. So many of my friends seemed to have this plan. I didn't have a clue. I registered for classes at the local community college but after a year, I decided it wasn't for me. And I quit to work full-time in a department store. I floated from job to job over the next few years - often working two to three jobs at a time. I returned to school because I was bored and needed something to fill the time. I struggled through most of my classes - especially math and science. I took classes in history, philosophy, business and psychology. The only classes that interested me were courses in literature, creative writing or journalism. After seven years working in retail and restaurants, I decided it was time to 'grow up' and get a regular 9-5 job in an office. I had no office experience. I had practically no computer skills. I hadn't taken a typing test since junior year with Mrs. Becker (and even then, I did horribly). And when I went to interview with recruiters - they were brutally honest. "You have no experience. No one will hire you." They all urged me to interview for retail positions.
I was only twenty-five years old and I felt as if I were being shoved into this box of who I was to be. Even though, I was unemployed - I refused all retail interviews. I had never had any problems getting a job I wanted. I knew someone would eventually hire me. I interviewed with a small private equity firm - I was in their office for almost four hours. I was certain, the job was mine. And I was shocked when they went with someone else. But I was lucky, that person didn't work out because a few weeks later - I was offered the receptionist position. I was going to school part-time at night and while my new job provided tuition reimbursement, they weren't very supportive of their receptionist going to school at night. Knowing I had another priority in my life was a threat. It meant I wanted something more than the cubicle I was sitting in. When I left a few years later, they were surprised it wasn't for another receptionist position. My next corporate job was in the legal department of an investment firm. It was a true boys club - all the attorneys were white men, the one female attorney was ostracized and ridiculed. A secretary going to a city college was no threat - not to the attorneys anyway. The other secretaries - assumed my time with them was limited and so they didn't take me seriously either. When I left that job, I was more hopeful than I had been in years. I took a job at a company where I thought I had real growth potential. I had just transferred to my fourth college and finally figured out what I wanted to do. I got married. Had a baby. And two weeks before I (finally) graduated with a BA in English, my son was diagnosed with autism. Trying to find balance as a working mom going to school is hard enough - adding special needs to the mix adds a whole other layer of guilt. It's been five years since my son was diagnosed with autism. And I've spent that time, being his advocate and his teacher. I've also been pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing. I have been in the same company for almost a decade and I've been an admin for more. This spring I will graduate and while I wish I could say - that I my degree will advance me in some way but I know that it will not. I will not be given a promotion and not even a pay raise. I have been told time and time again that I am 'over-qualified' for my current admin position but under qualified to do anything else. The only way I can "lean in" is if I quit and start over completely, which is really scary considering that I need to work, I need my salary and my benefits. Having a young special needs child - leaning in seems like a luxury I cannot afford. Not right now, at least. Not every woman in the workplace can Lean In- that's just a reality we have to face. But that doesn't mean we cannot lead. Two years ago, I started this blog as a class assignment. And it's really changed the way I've thought about myself, my job and my writing. I've learned to own it. I've learned to make peace with myself. I've learned that I cannot allow myself to be defined by my job. I've learned to pursue my dream in my own time - even if it means, taking one class at a time. I've learned that sometimes you have to break out in order to lean in. And just because I can't Lean In at work, that doesn't mean I can't Lean In another direction.
We're on Day 5 of the strike. I have used my 4th vacation day. Yesterday I spent the entire day at The Boy's school. In a storage room. You can check out the You Tube video HERE. Today I commuted to The Boy's school using public transportation. How did it go? See for yourself...
Dear Mayor Bloomberg and Local 1181, Below is a picture of my son, Norrin. He will be seven years old tomorrow. He has autism and goes to a special education school in Westchester - 22 miles away from our apartment building in The Bronx. As my husband and I are both working parents - we rely on the Office of Pupil Transportation and the Local 1181 to get Norrin to and from school safely. I am sure some wonder why we would choose to send our only child to a school so far way. It was not an easy decision to make. But not a single public school in The Bronx could meet Norrin's specific needs. It was a fight to get him placed into a specialized school but his school was well worth the fight. Yesterday, Friday, January 18, 2013, was the 3rd day of the NYC School Bus Strike. And my son Norrin is 1 of the 152,000 students stranded. On Wednesday and Thursday, I had no choice but to take vacation days from work to stay home with Norrin. But on the third day, I had to go into work. And with limited childcare options, I had no choice but to bring Norrin in with me.
I am administrative assistant and my husband is a NYS Supreme Court Officer - we don't have the kind of jobs where we have the privilege of working from home on a whim. My husband, cannot even manage to take a single day off from work to pick Norrin up from school. So the responsibility rests on me. And while we have a car, I do not know how to drive. In order for me to get Norrin from school, I need to take a bus, MetroNorth and a cab - it's a 2 hour commute (one way). And I know parents are to be reimbursed for service but it's a $75 fare and I can't afford this on a daily basis. Norrin isn't the kind of kid who can ride in a car pool with strangers. He still sits in a car seat. He has limited language and functions at a 4 year old level. Norrin's a runner and needs his hand to be held at all times. And while Norrin is okay riding trains - I do not feel comfortable sending him off with someone else - whether they know Norrin or not. When I commute with him, I keep both hands on Norrin while waiting on train platforms and when sitting on the train, I keep a hand on his knee because he tries to get up. If we're standing, I have to keep reminding him to hold on because he doesn't know how to keep his balance. So now I am forced to choose. Do I go to work? Or do I take my child to school?
I heard that out of the 145 students that attend Norrin's school only 43 kids showed up. These kids are missing out their much needed related services like Speech and Occupational Therapy. And because school is technically open - these services will not be made up. They are missing out on classroom instruction and peer relationship building. Their routines are being disrupted. These are children at risk for regression. Norrin has come such a long way since his diagnosis, I cannot risk him regressing. And after disruptions to his routine, it takes weeks to get him back on track. So on Tuesday, I will need to take another vacation day so that Norrin can go to school.
I have a generous amount of vacation time - four weeks. But if this strike goes beyond my vacation, I have no idea what I will do. I've already spoken to the Human Resources department and I've been told that this doesn't qualify for FMLA. And I need my vacation time to Norrin to appointments, for IEP meetings, for evaluations. This is beyond a stressful situation. So it seems ironic to me that Local 1181 members are fighting for their job protection, while so many parents - especially parents of special needs children - are worried about their own job security. My job is not secure - I can be let go at any given time. And while my bosses may be understanding, my being out of the office is an inconvenience. I worry about my job. Because I need it. And I have no union to fight for my protection. This strike must end soon. Because the individuals who really need protection are our kids. And I am fighting for them. Sincerely, Norrin's Mom For more on the NYC School Bus Strike see my other posts: What Will I Do If There's a NYC School Bus Strike Are You Prepared For a School Bus Strike? on Parents.com MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD - please sign the petition started by Miz Kp of Sailing Autistic Seas!
I've been trying not to think about. What we would do if there really is a school bus strike?
We live in The Bronx. The Boy's school is up in Westchester County - twenty miles away. I don't know how to drive. (I just got scolded for the billionth time "this is exactly the reason why you should know how to drive Babe.") And I work down in Manhattan.
And it makes me laugh every time every time I hear that the DOE plans on handing out metro cards. "Parents of children in grades K-2 can request an additional MetroCard to escort their child to school."
So...the DOE thinks it's okay to put a 3rd grader (an 8-9 year old) on the train or bus unescorted by their parent? I wasn't allowed to take the train/bus by myself until I started the 9th grade. The irony of this is - if I left an 8 year old home alone and the DOE or any one else found out about it, I may have children's services knocking at my door.
Either way, a metro card isn't really going to help me.
The DOE will also offer reimbursement to parents driving their kids to school or taking a car service - after filling out a form, of course.
Many kids in the public school system are working class families, single parents, parents of with multiple children, families who are working to simply get by. Families who do not have the flexibility in their jobs to take time off or work from home. Families who do not have cars or have the room in their budget to pay for car service (especially if the strike lasts for more than a few days). And let's be for real, it's the DOE - it could take months for reimbursement.
The Boy's been on a school bus since he was two years old. It isn't easy putting your kid on a school bus, sending them off with strangers hoping they will keep them safe. Especially when you have a child with special needs and they don't have the capacity to tell you about their day to day events. The bus drivers and matrons are absolutely critical to families like mine and they deserved to be treated as such. But the Department of Education and The Office of Pupil Transportation are two different entities who I wished spent more time working together. Because there's too much red tape involved and our kids are all tangled up in it. So what will we do if there really is a strike? Here are the options -
Option #1: I'll take a vacation days, stay home with The Boy and try to keep him busy.
Option #2: Take vacation days and take him up to school via public transportation (car service is not an option for me can't afford it - especially if this lasts for a few days). Public transportation requires a bus, the metro north train and a cab from the station to the school. It will take about 2.5 hours. Going back home or even to work would be a waste of time and money because The Boy will still need to get home. I may need to just set myself up in the parents lounge...
Option #3: Go to work, keep him home with a babysitter - I'll have to pay extra for that too.
Either way, The Boy will be missing out on something and his entire routine will be disrupted. The whole thing is sort of freaking me out. And I'm really hoping that all can be resolved between now and Wednesday.
You've seen it by now. The Time magazine cover that has every one's bra straps in a pinch. We all have our own opinions. Our judgements. Our snide remarks about the mother, the child and the boob that's hanging out.
Quite honestly, I don't care about the cover. Well - that's not true. I don't care about the picture. Because, guess what? Not me. Not my kid. And not my boob. (I'm secretly jealous of her perky 26 year old boob and the size of her skinny jeans and the flatness of her tummy. I am hoping that it's all photo shopped and that she's as saggy and flabby as me.)
It's the caption I care about.
Are You Mom Enough?
This photo went viral just a few days before Mother's Day. At a time when we should be celebrating the joy of motherhood and appreciating all the hardworking, caring, nurturing mothers - we're being pitted against one another.
Everyone is talking about the picture and breastfeeding. Very little is being said about the actual article. The mom on the cover is only a blurb in the six page feature. The article focuses on Dr. Bill Sears, his wife, Martha (authors of The Baby Book) and the philosophy of attachment parenting. What's attachment parenting? Well, it involves the following: breast feeding, co-sleeping, walking around with your baby in a sling and the belief that no infant should be left to cry because every little whimper is a cry for help.
"Attachment parenting says that the more time babies spend in their mothers' arms, the better the chances they will turn out to well-adjusted children." (Kate Pickert, Time)
Breast feeding wasn't for me
Seconds after I gave birth to The Boy, the nurse asked if I wanted to breast feed. I was open to it. But it was difficult - physically and emotionally. The Boy wouldn't latch on. The nurses came in and worked with me, but once I went home - I was on my own. I was a new mom, uncertain of what I was doing. At 2 am - The Boy was crying hysterically. And I couldn't do it. I sat there, rocking in the glider, The Boy in my arms trying to breast feed. I was crying - feeling like the biggest mother failure - because he wasn't latching on. The Boy's face was red from frustration and hunger. Finally I yelled out to The Husband to get the bottle. I am sure there are women who will say I didn't try hard enough. I know - I tried.
Two weeks later, I became engorged. And it was painful. If you've never been engorged. (Slip two big rocks in your bra and try to lay down on your stomach.) I had to go out and buy a pump. I sat on my sofa for two hours pumping milk out like I was a cow. You know what I got? Three measly ounces of milk. After that - The Boy got formula. Momma closed up the milk shop.
Welcome to reality
As a mother, I understand the philosophy behind attachment parenting and why some mothers would choose to follow it. But it's not the reality for everyone. Most of the moms I know - work. Not by choice. By necessity. I work. Not only because I really need to work and make money, I also want to. But that's for another blog post. (I'll be sharing that with Carla in the next few weeks.)
Attachment parenting especially isn't a reality for urban working class families or for the single mom. And as a mom who works full time outside of the home and as a college student - I know I'm not alone. Many of my classmates are also working (outside of the home) moms. Again, not by choice. By necessity. We sacrifice our time in order to make our child's life easier.
...the arguments for and against attachment parenting mirror questions about family and work that still divide America five decades after the advent of modern feminism, when nearly half the U.S. workforce is made up of women. (Kate Pickert, Time Magazine
Based on the article, Dr. Sears has a skewed sense of reality. Dr. Sears "encourages mothers to start home businesses" rather than rejoining the workforce. Dr. Sears also suggests "mothers quit their jobs and borrow money to make up the difference." Dr. and Mrs. Sears "subsidized their sons' wives so they could stay home with the Sears grandchildren."
For the secretary, the receptionist or blue collar worker - how will this work? What home business can they start? (You really can't start a business without money.) Who are they borrowing money from? Not every family/mother has these options. Or maybe - they don't want them.
And not every mother has the privilege of a flexible work arrangement. Where I work, many executives have the option to work from home. After The Boy was diagnosed, I asked if working from home could be an option. I was told that my job - as a secretary - could not be performed from home. And while some flexibility was allowed to accommodate our family needs - I work my full 35 to 40 hours. Not to mention commute time - about 10 hours a week.
For the single mom - what about medical insurance? Who will supplement her income - if the father decides he wants to skip town or be a dead beat? Should welfare be an option so that she can stay home with her baby and follow the attachment parenting approach? If that started happening, I know people would be up in arms about that.
These are not the days ofArchie Bunker - where a single income blue collar worker can purchase a house in Queens (New York), support his family and send his child to college.
Different. Not Less.
Temple Grandin's mother, Eustacia Cutler, described her daughter as different, not less. The same term can be applied to mothers. I work outside of the home, I didn't breastfeed but I co-sleep - though not by choice, its the only way I'll get some sleep. I am different. Not less.
And just because a mother stays home and adopts the attachment parenting philosophy - that makes her different. Not more.
Here's a novel idea!
Do what works for you and your family. GASP! I know, I know - sounds a little radical. But if you don't want to take my word for it. Listen to these guys:
"Trust [your] instincts...'You know more than you think you do.'" ~ Dr. Spock.
"Do the best you can with the resources you have." ~ Dr. Sears
These would have been great sentiments for Mother's Day. Though I suppose, it's not the sentiment that will sell magazines.
If breast feeding a three year old, works for Jamie Lynn Grumet (the mother on Time Magazine) - good for her. And if you know breast feeding a three year old isn't going to work for you. Don't do it.
As a special needs mom, I talk a lot about acceptance. But I can't be selective about my acceptance - especially when it comes to parenting styles. That would make me a hypocrite. So as long as a child isn't put in any physical danger - who the hell am I to judge?
Am I Mom Enough?
Not a day goes by where I think to myself - am I doing enough for my child? And I know many moms - whether they stay at home with their kids or work outside of the home ask themselves the same question. In a recent Huffington Post article, Erin Smith writes:
There are all types of mothers out there; working mothers, stay at home mothers, mothers that work part time -- all sorts of arrangements. With all their differences, I'd venture to say that at least one common thread exists among them: they all have some level of guilt.
Chances are if you are feeling some kind guilt, if you are questioning "Am I Mom enough?" - the answer is probably YES. You are mom enough.
And as mothers - don't we teach our children to do their best. If they do their very best, then that's all that matters.
The same should apply to us.
(I'm running out to enjoy my Mother's Day weekend - if there are any typos - forgive me, I'll revise later.)
By now you've seen this Time cover. The taunting photo of a couple sans kids sprawled out on the beach, hands over head, all smug and relaxed because their childfree life allows them to have it all.
