Michael Alexander was up from 11 p.m. until 4 a.m., teeming with boundless energy. I was fighting back the tears, struggling to smile while trying to soothe him into a sleeplike state. He finally fell asleep around 4:30, after a crying fit as passionate as his five-hour overnight playfest. He was back up as soon as Mike left for work after returning from his uber-early gym shift. Mike works out and goes to work even earlier on Wednesdays so I can get to the gym on time to secure my spot in favorite abs class that starts at 6:15 p.m.
Michael Alexander appears well-rested, smiling and playing without any apparent interest in a nap. I have devoured a pot of very strong coffee just to keep up with him. I put him in the Jumperoo so I could scribble my barely coherent thoughts. He's learning as he bounces, smiling at me for approval as he meticulously places plastic fruits into the corresponding spots in exchange for a light. That smile is the only thing that's keeping me from crumbling.
My dear friend Kate suggested that maybe he's not sleeping because of a developmental milestone. That's quite possible, as he learned to clap properly during storytime Monday, and was up in the middle of the night flaunting his newly perfected skill. He's also taking more solo steps without wobbling. It is so exciting to witness his rapid progress as he quickly approaches his first birthday. I just wish I could get enough rest to match his exuberance.
Mindy Greenstein, a psycho-oncologist and consultant at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, last week blogged about motherhood. She calls it "the most invisible, undervalued job that I have ever had." No doubt Greenstein commands a fat salary for her work at Memorial. It is probably even more than the estimated (and of course, hypothetical) *salary* for a stay-at-home mom in Manhattan. According to salary.com, the local median for a SAHM in my zip code is $139,888, in a range of $117,583 to $169,794. Even at the low end, that's more than most executive editor jobs I'm qualified for pay. And those figures are for last year, in a report that posts increases every year.
I don't expect a paycheck for my labor of love, but even the most grueling day at the office ends. Here I am, brought to you exclusively by the power of caffeine, focusing purely on my sweet son's smile. I have so much to do around the house, which quickly transforms into a disaster zone after two mostly sleepless nights, but I am expending every ounce of energy to keep Michael Alexander entertained.
I am actively applying for full-time jobs. I've had a few interviews, all positive, until the topic of salary arises. None match the low end of my "typical" SAHM compensation. The most interesting job I interviewed for this week pays a pittance which is less than half of my average salary of the last five years. I just received an email follow up to an interview last week. I wasn't expecting to hear back, as I thought I was out of the game once I'd mentioned at the end of a lengthy interview that I have a nearly year-old son. The job requires the editor to be on call 24/7. I'm already on call 24/7.
I'm grappling with how to reply to this email. Of course I am flattered to emerge as the top contender in a hyper-competitive market. This job doesn't pay the "typical" SAHM rate, but it's enough to offset the cost of childcare. I am tempted, as I struggle with a job title that makes me "invisible," but I shudder to think that reclaiming visibility requires me to be on call when my son needs me most. I am crafting my response now, negotiating for a slightly higher salary and some flexibility over being on call 24/7.
I'm not sure what it will take for me to trade my invisible paycheck for a living wage.
Showing posts with label stay-at-home mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stay-at-home mom. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Working on "Not Working"
Before Michael Alexander was born, I never expected to be a stay-at-home mom. I'd spent too many years, made too many sacrifices, to get where I was as a journalist after abandoning my first career pursuit, academia. I'd planned to go back to work after three months, like most (it seems) moms in the city. Now I can't imagine being in an office every day and missing the moments that are most precious, knowing I can care for my son better than anyone else. Not because I'm infinitely more qualified, but because I love him more than anyone else could. I'm unwilling to debate that.
Motherhood with all its joys has its pains, most inflicted by others. There's the worry that you're not giving your child enough. In Manhattan, that's an uber worry as the megarich, and those who drown in debt to feign such wealth, perpetuate a culture that compels you to spend a fortune on childcare. I see nannies every day. I see them tow children from townhouses to pricey play facilities where they chat away with other nannies. I see them shop for cosmetics, for clothes, for anything that's not for the babies. I hear them blab away on their cell phones or with other nannies as the children they are caring for cry, scream, laugh, whatever. The kids are being ignored, at best. In the rare case, I see a nanny abuse a child, like the one who slammed a stroller into the brick wall outside a Babies"R"Us. The toddler was yelling and weeping while the nanny was on the phone. I'm guessing it wasn't the parent/employer on the other line. I am not trying to malign nannies. I am not trying to guilt or scare the parents who fork over a big chunk of non-Wall Street salaries for this service. I am not even trying to make myself feel better. Really, I'm not. At least not by hating on paid childcare workers. I believe those who care for children should be paid -- and treated -- well. And I also believe those who care for their own children should be treated well, or at least with some respect. At least as much respect as they demanded in the workplace they left behind to stay at home.
My biggest struggle isn't keeping up with the Manhattan standard of hemorrhaging money hand over fist for activities that babies don't even understand or enjoy. It's accepting the terms and the tone used to describe my decision to "stay at home." Even my supportive, loving husband has said "Natasha isn't working, so ..." He'll deny it, I'm sure. But I have witnesses. I know Mike means no offense and isn't displeased with my staying at home to raise our son. But hearing anyone say "Natasha isn't working" makes me cringe, and when I'm alone, cry. I do some freelance, as much as I can with a very active son who seems allergic to napping. Michael Alexander demands constant attention and I give it to him. That may be a mistake on my end, at least according to many childcare experts. But I can't abandon my work ethic, even if I'm "not working" by most people's standards, and my job is to care for my son every second he's awake and to check on him every few minutes on the rare occasion he naps for more than half an hour. I'm actively seeking a full-time job, but I'm not sure I want to go back to work, yet. I don't want to take a job just to offset the cost of a nanny. I want to send Michael Alexander to a daycare where he interacts with other children and with other adults. The costs of such daycare in our neighborhood are astronomical.
As I consider when and why I want to return to an office, I try to maintain a positive perspective on my current condition as "not working." A 2010 Kansas State University study found that people value, and do not differentiate between, mothers who stay in the home full time and mothers who find a compromise between working and at-home motherhood after they have a child. People also devalue mothers employed full-time outside the home, relative to their non-employed counterparts, and perceive their children to be troubled and their relationships to be problematic, the study showed. But I'm not in Kansas. I'm in Manhattan, where we're measured by very different criteria. I'm supposed to be a supermom and a superwoman executive and, oh yeah, a size 2 at most, and that's with the baby weight. "The most interesting, and potentially dangerous, finding is the view that if a child has a working mother, people don't like that child as much," said Jennifer Livengood, a graduate student in psychology who did the study for her master's thesis and collaborated with Mark Barnett, professor of psychology. "People really devalue a mom who works full time outside the home in comparison to a mom who doesn't. People like mothers who fulfill traditional stereotypes, like staying at home. That's just not a reality and not a preference for women as much as it used to be." Ha! Well, at least people -- all kinds of people -- like my son, regardless of my work status. He's too charming to be measured against my career path, even when I've careened off course.
Another study published this month in the journal Child Development found that the longer a mother works outside the home, the more likely it is that her kids will become overweight. So far, Michael Alexander is long and lean, like his father's father. I hope Michael Alexander continues to be blessed by those genetics (not my sluggish thyroid), and I will not let him consume poisons such as high fructose corn syrup and will encourage him in any and all athletic pursuits. Researchers from American University in Washington, Cornell University and the University of Chicago studied data on more than 900 children in 10 U.S. cities, focusing on kids in Grades 3, 5, and 6. They found that every five months or so that a mother was employed was linked to an increase in her child's BMI that was 10% higher than other kids their age. Before I take credit for my son's infant fitness, I'll be first to acknowledge such studies are often anecdotal, at best. And lead researcher Taryn Morrissey notes that "We want to emphasize that this is not a maternal employment issue; this is a family balance issue. This is not about maternal employment per se; this is about some other environmental factor or several factors." As for environmental factors, I do take pride that Mike and I are raising our son in a city that bans trans fats and a borough that battles evil behemoths like Walmart.
It's taken me over an hour to bang this out, as I steal seconds while Michael Alexander engages in toys instead of tapping the keys. If I were "working" in an office I could have banged out thousands of words of copy in that hour or so. Back in the AP days, I'd have filed dozens of stories in the first hour of a busy shift. It's tough to recall more than a dozen stories that stood out in that frenzy. But now that I'm "not working" I can count every word that I manage to bang out. And every one of those words count, even if they don't command a salary. I'm not working, but I am working on being the best mother I can, and if Michael Alexander's disposition and development is any indicator then I can take pride in my joblessness.
Motherhood with all its joys has its pains, most inflicted by others. There's the worry that you're not giving your child enough. In Manhattan, that's an uber worry as the megarich, and those who drown in debt to feign such wealth, perpetuate a culture that compels you to spend a fortune on childcare. I see nannies every day. I see them tow children from townhouses to pricey play facilities where they chat away with other nannies. I see them shop for cosmetics, for clothes, for anything that's not for the babies. I hear them blab away on their cell phones or with other nannies as the children they are caring for cry, scream, laugh, whatever. The kids are being ignored, at best. In the rare case, I see a nanny abuse a child, like the one who slammed a stroller into the brick wall outside a Babies"R"Us. The toddler was yelling and weeping while the nanny was on the phone. I'm guessing it wasn't the parent/employer on the other line. I am not trying to malign nannies. I am not trying to guilt or scare the parents who fork over a big chunk of non-Wall Street salaries for this service. I am not even trying to make myself feel better. Really, I'm not. At least not by hating on paid childcare workers. I believe those who care for children should be paid -- and treated -- well. And I also believe those who care for their own children should be treated well, or at least with some respect. At least as much respect as they demanded in the workplace they left behind to stay at home.
My biggest struggle isn't keeping up with the Manhattan standard of hemorrhaging money hand over fist for activities that babies don't even understand or enjoy. It's accepting the terms and the tone used to describe my decision to "stay at home." Even my supportive, loving husband has said "Natasha isn't working, so ..." He'll deny it, I'm sure. But I have witnesses. I know Mike means no offense and isn't displeased with my staying at home to raise our son. But hearing anyone say "Natasha isn't working" makes me cringe, and when I'm alone, cry. I do some freelance, as much as I can with a very active son who seems allergic to napping. Michael Alexander demands constant attention and I give it to him. That may be a mistake on my end, at least according to many childcare experts. But I can't abandon my work ethic, even if I'm "not working" by most people's standards, and my job is to care for my son every second he's awake and to check on him every few minutes on the rare occasion he naps for more than half an hour. I'm actively seeking a full-time job, but I'm not sure I want to go back to work, yet. I don't want to take a job just to offset the cost of a nanny. I want to send Michael Alexander to a daycare where he interacts with other children and with other adults. The costs of such daycare in our neighborhood are astronomical.
As I consider when and why I want to return to an office, I try to maintain a positive perspective on my current condition as "not working." A 2010 Kansas State University study found that people value, and do not differentiate between, mothers who stay in the home full time and mothers who find a compromise between working and at-home motherhood after they have a child. People also devalue mothers employed full-time outside the home, relative to their non-employed counterparts, and perceive their children to be troubled and their relationships to be problematic, the study showed. But I'm not in Kansas. I'm in Manhattan, where we're measured by very different criteria. I'm supposed to be a supermom and a superwoman executive and, oh yeah, a size 2 at most, and that's with the baby weight. "The most interesting, and potentially dangerous, finding is the view that if a child has a working mother, people don't like that child as much," said Jennifer Livengood, a graduate student in psychology who did the study for her master's thesis and collaborated with Mark Barnett, professor of psychology. "People really devalue a mom who works full time outside the home in comparison to a mom who doesn't. People like mothers who fulfill traditional stereotypes, like staying at home. That's just not a reality and not a preference for women as much as it used to be." Ha! Well, at least people -- all kinds of people -- like my son, regardless of my work status. He's too charming to be measured against my career path, even when I've careened off course.
Another study published this month in the journal Child Development found that the longer a mother works outside the home, the more likely it is that her kids will become overweight. So far, Michael Alexander is long and lean, like his father's father. I hope Michael Alexander continues to be blessed by those genetics (not my sluggish thyroid), and I will not let him consume poisons such as high fructose corn syrup and will encourage him in any and all athletic pursuits. Researchers from American University in Washington, Cornell University and the University of Chicago studied data on more than 900 children in 10 U.S. cities, focusing on kids in Grades 3, 5, and 6. They found that every five months or so that a mother was employed was linked to an increase in her child's BMI that was 10% higher than other kids their age. Before I take credit for my son's infant fitness, I'll be first to acknowledge such studies are often anecdotal, at best. And lead researcher Taryn Morrissey notes that "We want to emphasize that this is not a maternal employment issue; this is a family balance issue. This is not about maternal employment per se; this is about some other environmental factor or several factors." As for environmental factors, I do take pride that Mike and I are raising our son in a city that bans trans fats and a borough that battles evil behemoths like Walmart.
It's taken me over an hour to bang this out, as I steal seconds while Michael Alexander engages in toys instead of tapping the keys. If I were "working" in an office I could have banged out thousands of words of copy in that hour or so. Back in the AP days, I'd have filed dozens of stories in the first hour of a busy shift. It's tough to recall more than a dozen stories that stood out in that frenzy. But now that I'm "not working" I can count every word that I manage to bang out. And every one of those words count, even if they don't command a salary. I'm not working, but I am working on being the best mother I can, and if Michael Alexander's disposition and development is any indicator then I can take pride in my joblessness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)