Because I Work

"Hi Mommy!"

The first time Charity's impish, dimpled face woke me up exactly a half an hour before I had to go to work, I didn't think it was cute. My reaction, instead, was more to the tune of "ugggggg." In fact, the first week of this new wake up call was a little hard to handle. After all, I'm a grad student, writer, teacher, manager, wife, and mom surviving on caffeine and five hours of sleep each night. I need every moment of shut-eye I can get.

But after a few days of waking up to an energetic toddler crawling into my bed to either feign sleep, jump, or play with the Dora doll who must not be moved from my windowsill, I'm starting to feel gratitude more than fatigue.

Charity Feigning Sleep

It's nice to spend a few extra moments with her, even if it's when I'm at my sleepiest. I even get the impression that she's getting up just to spend the time with me too. Sure, she still asks me to put on her "Elmo DVD" or watch "Sesame Street on the Computer," to bring out her doll house so she can fill it with her dinosaurs, or to get her some yogurt--STAT! But she seems to want to spend more time with me in the mornings because she knows that "Mommy has to go to work." She always asks me whether I'm going or staying, and if I'm going, she wants to know if she can go to the library when I get home. If I'm staying, well, she wants to know if she can go to the library now. Even though I'm tired, even though I'm not ready to get up, having those few moments with Charity is worth it. Plus, waking up to a smiling, happy toddler is better than waking up to even my favorite radio stations--The Drive, XRT, and WBEZ.

It's been about a year since my essay, "In Defense of Bad Parenting," won the Stark-Tinkham award for best graduate essay and was subsequently published in Subvesify online magazine. In that essay, I expressed my frustration with my community's attitudes toward working mothers.I was frustrated by the fact that many people in my community feel the need to cast judgement on mothers who decide to seek fulfillment both inside and outside of the home. I don't understand why, in today's era of modern understanding, we still feel the need to critique others' private choices and assume that working parents are bad parents.

In "In Defense of Bad Parenting," I compared my choice to work with Charity's then choice to stay up later and miss me in the mornings. Now, it appears both Charity and I have chosen again. Charity's made the choice to change her sleep schedule, and I've made the choice to embrace and encourage this time.

 However, my decision to work and to unapologetically enjoy my work has not changed.

I am a better parent because I work, because I love my work and it energizes and challenges me. Working stretches my brain and forces me to create to synapses, to learn more and to become better able to solve problems and think critically. The skills I learn from work don't stay there, though. I take them home share them with my family. Working daily with adult students, clients, and colleagues has undeniably changed how I parent my preschool-aged daughter. I've learned how to see things from various peoples' points of view and to utilize those points of view when interacting with different people. I've learned how to listen and respond to my daughter as a person through interacting with people in my line of work.

So how has my community's perception changed? It's changed a bit. At least, some individuals' perceptions of me have changed because they've begun to view my work as important or significant. However, I still routinely hear people in my community making excuses for children's behavior or feeling sorry for those children because "both parents work." Granted, there are some parents who do not like to spend time with their children, who use work as an excuse to get away.

This is not such a case. And many families in which "both parents work" cannot be characterized by the above assumption. In many families, parents work because they enjoy it or because they finances necessitate it. And in these families, parents still find the time to be good parents, to devote to their children the same passion they devote to their work, and in cases, like mine, to be better parents for it. While these parents are working, they do so with the idea that they work for themselves and for their children--to provide for their children, to learn more that they can teach to their children, and to set a good example of how to not only provide for a family but also how to pursue a myriad of dreams.

Trust me, you would have to feel a lot more sorry for Charity if I didn't work. Right now, I think she's got it pretty good. Our weekend agenda includes a movie and maple sugar tasting.

So am I just defending bad parenting again? No, I'm not apologizing this time. I'm a good parent because I love my child, because I want what's best for her, because I keep my commitments to her, and because I work.

This is a Post About Elmo

For those of you who don't know my daughter personally, there's one thing you should understand: she's absolutely head over heels with a fuzzy, red monster whose name starts with a capital E.

Now just in case there's a horror movie out there whose antagonist is a slasher named Earl with a skin disease, let me clarify: we are talking about Elmo.

As most of you know, I'm not the biggest fan of kids watching TV. I tend to dislike all cartoons, even down to the so-called "classic" Bugs Bunny. I make an exception for Disney movies and The Simpsons. However, I don't like it when kids watch tons of TV because I think they're not doing, not engaging, not experiencing. And because I'm so busy I verge on manic, we all know I'm big on experiencing.

But for the most part, I've been pleased with what Charity learns from Elmo. She wants to watch him, particularly one DVD she got for Christmas, over and over again, but I've seen her vocabulary and her problem solving skills grow because of her close watching of the DVD, taking in the instruction, and actually interacting with it, as well as trying to apply the lessons Elmo teaches her elsewhere. For instance, she often talks to me about "pride," one of Elmo's keywords on the DVD. (OK, she still thinks pride is something she can eat and frequently asks for it alongside a cookie, but at least she's becoming familiar with the term.)

However, there was one part of each Elmo movie or episode that never sat right with me. At the end of his shows, Elmo usually says, "And remember, Elmo loves you!"

But a fictional character can't love.

So will this scar children? Will they wonder why Elmo wasn't there for them when they broke their legs or lost their first teeth? Will they compare others' love the the faux-love that Elmo gives them. Love is the basis of what makes us human--it's something children need to develop the capacity for and understand at a young age. Could Elmo confuse them enough to send them into therapy for the rest of their lives?

And that's when I realized--Elmo is telling kids he loves them for just that reason. Because some of these kids who watch Elmo don't come from happy homes with parents who love them and friends and family who feel absolutely blessed to be a part of their lives. Who knows what kind of horrible things these kids have to deal with on a daily basis. But if their parents just turn on the TV, then for a while, they at least get to learn, they at least get to see what happiness is, and they at least get to hear that they're loved.

In the last few weeks, I've heard a lot about the Republican's fiscal bill, which, in the name of the national debt, completely cuts funding for public broadcasting. That's not why I'm writing this blog. Those of you who know me know that, when it comes to politics, I walk pretty much in the middle of the road, just staying enough to the left to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic. My husband, a convicted Republican, says PBS doesn't need government funding to keep running Sesame Street, that it's worth millions. He might be right. At least, I'd be inclined to believe it based on the percentage of our annual household income that is earmarked for Elmo merchandise.

But when we think about taking away something like Sesame Street, we need to think beyond people like Charity, who, if Elmo were to suddenly disappear, would still have a village of people telling her they love her each and every day. We need to think about why Sesame Street was really created--in the hopes that, someday, a world population might understand the importance of learning, sharing, loving, and sunny days. So far, it's been unsuccessful--wars are still being fought because grown men and women can't learn to share. But I'd like to think that Elmo, Big Bird, Grover, and the gang convict us all a little when our behavior doesn't reflect the values of Sesame Street.

I guess I don't mind so much that Elmo says he loves Charity. In fact, maybe Elmo does love her; you'd have to have a whole lot of love in your heart to write something as pure as Sesame Street.

So, Charity, Elmo loves you. And so does Mommy. And so does your village. How lucky we both are to know that so certainly.