Working Girl

When I bid sayanara to my nine-to-five just one short month ago to stay at home with my darling little P, the only "work" I envisioned myself doing involved werking it.  As in werking six-inch wedges on play dates (because stilettos would be totally inappropriate).  Or werking my best step-touch at Mommy and Me music class.

Deadlines, conference calls and phrases like "circle back," "ping me", and "the net-net" are a thing of the past.  Or they were supposed to be, but the truth is this:  I. Like. Money.  I think most of us do.  UnPlain has a penchant for shopping, enjoys a good car service pick up, and likes to buy good wine (or large quantities of decent wine).  The simple life has never been for me and while I'm proud to report that I am one-sixth into my personal goal of not purchasing a single item of clothing for six months and, I wouldn't balk at the opportunity to purchase a new bag, pair of shoes, or even a bra for that matter.

Additionally, I think most moms out there would agree that werking it with a toddler ain't that easy.  Recently, on a particularly inspired day I channeled my best Betty Draper and threw on a pair of high-waisted, side-zip  cigarette pants with a lovely white collared shirt.  I accessorized myself perfectly, threw a diaper and wipes into my handbag and headed off for my day of visits with P.  Hours later, back at home I sat on my kitchen floor in my chicer-than-though mommy gear with sweat-stained pits and yogurt all over my once pristinely pressed pants.

Not only is werking it with a toddler not easy, it doesn't pay the bills, so when approached by a former employer to take on a two-and-a-half month freelance project, I jumped at the opportunity to earn some dough and use my creativity for something that doesn't involve crayons.   Before I could say "conference call" I found myself ignoring P to create a spreadsheet, hiring a nanny and dialing into a daily team meeting.  Before I could say "conference call" I found myself fighting off the pangs of guilt and sadness that come with missing precious moments with P.

Today marks one week since I've been fortunate enough to land a two-and-a-half month gig, working from home, doing something I really enjoy.  While what I'm doing is fun, challenging and allows me to have big girl conversations it somehow pales in comparison to the satisfaction I feel after a day of playdates, errands and cooking.  I've spent years working crazy hours, giving 1000%, traveling around the country and taking extraordinary pride in my achievements as an event producer. Now, 10 years since beginning my career, I can honestly say my favorite to answer the question, "What do you do?" is "I'm a stay-at-hom-mom."

In the meantime, going back to guilt and back to the grind for two-and-a-half months, is a fabulous reminder that  I can work it and werk it.  For a short time anyway....