The Mother Load

April 30, 2016

My Hannah, as I describe her to anyone who matters, is a brilliant redhead in her sophomore year in Journalism school at Mizzou. She has become one of my closest friends, she was my student in my final years at the 'view, she is a better version of me.

She called last week with some questions for me for an assignment from her gender studies class. My life as a mother working was the subject of the assignment. She knows me well and witnessed firsthand my juggled life. Even so, her questions about the delicate (and I will admit improbable) balance performed by this mama took me off balance. I hadn't really stepped back and thought about how hard it was. But I had always known how great it was.

It was hard.

It was hard when I left that first time for an overnight tournament after Gracie was born. I cried with Nydia in the parking lot that Friday morning while little Gracie cooed in the backseat. It was the most difficult climb up bus steps I've ever made. She was 3 months old.

It was hard when Gracie was diagnosed with pneumonia and I was on my way to the State Tournament. She was two.

It was hard when Drew was so sick he had to get an IV and it was during the National Qualifier and I was the Judges' Chair. My husband knew I was in the middle of it and kept it from me as long as he could. Drew was almost one year old. He was so sick and I was in utter agony.

It was hard when they had games and birthday parties and life and I had tournaments. It was a lot.

It was hard when I was planted at Parkview until 8 or 9 at night and they were home. It was a lot.

We were winning. A lot. 

I had a responsibility to my students.

I had a responsibility to my children.

It was a lot.

Balance has never been my gift. I tend to go overboard with whatever I'm in. The results can be great and they can be disastrous. With the help of an amazing support system, I was able to do my job and be a mother. The guilt, the trade-offs, however, are not to be discounted. And I couldn't maintain it. It did me in. The imbalance finally got the best of me.

I've mulled over my conversation with my Hannah many times. The irony is that she is a precious part of my life that I wouldn't have if I hadn't engaged in the delicate dance of motherhood and work. 

Much has shifted for me in recent months and years, but this I know: when you care passionately about a thing or a person or a people or an activity and you invest it all in whatever it is, sometimes something has to give. But even then, if they know you love them and you did the best you could, it's ok. 

Even if it's hard.