If it did exist, I wouldn't feel so damn guilty all the time. The last couple of weeks have been particularly tough. I've been reporting on the Fiesta Bowl scandal, and that's meant a lot of long days and late hours.
Last week, I missed Scott's bedtime twice. I got home after the munchkin was already asleep. No feeding him dinner, no story, no night-time bottle, no goodnight kiss. This, mind you, comes after seeing him for maybe 45 minutes in the morning, with at least half of that being during my commute to work. Not exactly quality bonding time.
I don't know that Scott was even aware that I was gone during those late nights; after all, his daddy was with him, and gave him hugs and kisses and rocked him before he went to sleep. But I can tell you I was acutely aware of my absence.
I cried at the office, as I looked at the clock and thought about what I was missing.
Yesterday, my husband told me Scott rolled over, repeatedly, across the floor, for the first time. I wasn't there. I am hoping he'll grant mommy a repeat performance this weekend.
So more and more often, I find myself trying to "steal" moments. I go in his nursery and rub his back and watch him sleep in his crib. I work from home for an hour in the morning some days, just so I can look at him playing in his bouncy chair. When I can, I stop by daycare for 15 minutes on my lunch hour, just so I can see him smile.
But I still feel like it isn't enough. That I am not there enough. That I am letting him down.
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| A quick visit to Scott's "school" makes any day better. |
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| I'd like to think he's reading one of my stories, but it's probably the comics...or obits. |
At the same time, I feel frustrated that I am not doing more at work. Because quite simply, I love my job. You can't be a reporter if you don't feel a calling for it. Every journalist - and I am certainly no exception - wants to be a part of the big story. And when you cover the Governor's Office, there's a lot of big stories.
That passion for the job is the reason I handed my son to my husband on a Saturday morning in January and drove 80-miles an hour to the state Capitol to hear the Governor's remarks on the horrible Tucson shooting that gravely wounded Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. It's the reason, later that week, that I missed putting Scott to bed for the first time, and instead drove to Tucson to cover the memorial at the McKale Center.
It's the reason I've worked late most every night during the last week on our Fiesta Bowl coverage.
But there have also been times I haven't been able to give my all at the office. When my colleagues have had to pick up stories in my absence because I've been at home with a feverish Scott, or running him up to the pediatrician because he's sick with yet another daycare-induced illness.
And the frustration I feel is palpable. I've shed some tears over that too. Am I a bad employee because some days I simply can't be there, working in the office? Is there more I could be doing on the job-front?
Most of my friends work. Their children are older, and they tell me it doesn't get easier. As the kids grow, they become more aware, and now some of them tell their mommies that they don't want them to go to the office because they'll miss them.
I am already dreading that day.
At the same time, I know I am not ready to change much about my current situation. I have friends who stay at home with their kids, and I certainly understand and respect that choice. And yes, sometimes I am a bit envious too. There are days when I want nothing more than to play and cuddle with my sweet baby from sun-up until sundown.
But I can't change that I love my work, and I've worked hard to build the career I have. My professional life is a huge part of who I am, and I hope one day to share with Scott why mommy's job is important.
So for the foreseeable future, the work-life juggle continues. And that's how I choose to term it. In my mind, there's no such thing as a work-life balance.
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