No drama Momma

A friend  of mine dropped in one afternoon.

The apartment was clean, almost all the toys were in their place and I had recently finished vacuuming.
"Wow, your place looks great.", she said.

On a different day the same friend (also a mommy) stopped by with some toys she was lending us. 

This time, the place was a mess. Toys everywhere, some clothes here and there. 

My daughter and I were sitting on the floor building a tower of blocks.

"Wow girls, you look like you're having a lot of fun", she said.

There are people who will always find something nice to say to you regardless of who you are and what you are doing. They lift you up and are a pleasure to be around because you feel safe. They won't judge you for your messy living room, your screaming child or your parenting methods. They won't judge other parents and non-parents alike.

After my previous post about "Why mom can't do it all", I received two kinds of messages. 

Messages of appreciation and messages from outraged moms who thought the post was the rant of a brat.

I was told to grow-up.

To get a job.

To stop being self-indulgent.

To stop being a martyr and make other moms look bad with my whining. 

To just figure it out and suck it up and be the parent I needed to be. 

To not have meltdowns. 

To stop blogging and then I might get more done around the house. 

I have one child who sleeps at night and a husband. 

Hence, I have to be able to do it all.

I was told moms do nothing but whine lately and write about how hard it is for them when all they are doing is a simple job. 

It's not that hard, they said.

They themselves work and have time to cook every day.

Or they stay at home and enjoy it and it's no big deal to them.

They don't scream at their kids. 

They don't slam doors.

And that is, I think, really awesome, that they can do it like that.

 It's just parenting, it's not rocket science. They say. 

And they are right.

It's not rocket science.

I could blog about other things than the hardships of parenting (or at least, what I consider hardships). 

But being a parent is, right now, the most important aspect of my life and that is what fills my head and my heart. 

So that's what I write about.

Are there too many blogs out there of the sort with moms "whining" like me?

Probably.

I wonder why. 

Could it be because in real life it is hard to find a friend you can actually tell "Look, I messed up the other day. I feel like I suck as a parent. And being a good parent is the most important thing to me right now"- without wondering if they will judge you, without wondering if they will frown and say "Lady, figure it out. You're an adult". 

Because most of us are parents and have strong opinions about parenting.

I could write about the joys of staying up until 3 a.m. studying for exams but that wouldn't interest too many people. 

Anyway, when someone attacks you like that, your immediate instinct is to protect yourself.

You want to tell them why you can't have a job right now.

Or that you do cook every day most of the time.
Or that you blog once or twice per month. 
Or that most days are quite ok, there's no drama (except for toddler tantrums).
Or that you don't usually yell and you make it your goal not to.

Or that you don't have meltdowns all the time but it did happen and it was an awful day with tons of problems and an extremely cranky toddler.
Or that you chose to write about these worst moments to show that we are all vulnerable and sometimes maxed out, regardless of who we are and what we do.
Or that,as far as you can tell, every mom is simply trying to do her best with whatever financial and emotional resources she has. 

And none of it matters.

Because it all depends on what eye they are using to look at you.

If they use a good eye, they don't need your explanations.

Their assumptions about you are positive to begin with. 

If they use the evil eye, you can try to justify yourself all you want.

They will still find a way to judge. 

You can try to explain that not all kids are the same and yours is somewhat more difficult, more intense, more sensitive and more loud than others. 

According to them, it's your fault you are not handling it all smoothly all the time and now you complain about it. 

You are not doing it right. You are not enough.

Ending probably with a comment such as "Well then you shouldn't have had a kid in the first place if you have all these problems". 

These kind of words tap into every parent's greatest fear: that they are not good enough of a mom or a dad.  And they are also not allowed to say anything about this fear because they need to "grow up". 

I decide to choose a different approach.

When someone tells me about their problems/complains/whines (call it whatever you want), it will be a good test for me to see what kind of eye I can offer them. 

The good one or the evil one?

Do I have empathy even though I don't get their problems?

Do I have a good word although I don't completely understand their hardships?

If I think they are overreacting, do I care enough to get some more information or will I fill in the blanks by myself and give my conclusions?

If I think they are overreacting, can I tell them that in a kind, non-destructive way?
Or will I just see it as exaggerated momma drama?

What is one of the most important lessons I want to teach my child?

To be a good person, to be kind.  

We talk about it all the time.

Say "please" and "thank you".

Share. 

Baby Alex is sad. Go give him a hug.

Don't say mean words to other kids. 

Maybe we, as adults, need to say less mean things as well. 

Listen to our own advice to the little ones. 

We teach them to go beyond their first impulse of hitting or biting or screaming and find the right way to do things. 

So we, as adults, can practice going beyond our first impulse of judging and throwing rocks, think things through and find the compassion towards every person, child or grown-up alike.

Why Mom just can't do it all

 

As a stay-at-home mom, I put a lot of pressure on myself. 

I want to do it right, whatever that means.

I read stuff about what is good for kids physically and emotionally and when something makes sense, I try to implement it.

It gives me a feeling of success which, in all honesty, I badly need. 

Because the feelings of success that I had been used to before my daughter was born (finishing a project, getting a good grade, receiving an appreciative comment from a customer, getting my paycheck) are gone. 

All gone. 

Here are some of my findings. 

Findings that are basically the results of many studies conducted in many fields.

Mom should breastfeed. If she can. She should breastfeed for at least a year (although now the age is being pushed to two) and preferably even longer than that. Because breastfed babies are healthier and smarter. 

No pressure.

Mom should feed the child healthy food. Preferably organic. Preferably home cooked. No processed food. Mom should strive for 5-7 servings of veggies and fruits/day (according to the anti-cancer people).

Mom should not let child watch T.V. Zero before two years. Very little after that. Because it is simply bad for them. Like real bad. It will undermine their capacity to entertain themselves, to deal with boredom, to enjoy the slower pace of the real world. It will make them want stuff and more stuff by turning them into life-long consumers. Not pretty. They benefit more from playing with a rock in the garden.

Mom should make sure child gets enough sleep. Minimum 12 hours per day when 2 years old. Every hour lost over an extended period of time is a setback in brain development. No joke. 

Mom should strive to use non-plastic dishes and cups. Even BPA free sucks. Especially if heated up.  

Mom should consider carefully whether she will send her child to daycare. Psychologically, children are ready for daycare around age 4-5. The little ones show elevated stress hormones in the afternoon when they are in daycare and they do a lot better with one-on-one. Especially an introverted child who is not a big fan of loud groups.

And now comes the hard part (yes, only now).

Mom should strive to be an example for the child, a role-model. 

Not only in everyday habits like washing hands and cleaning up after ourselves.

But also in emotional management. 

Which is the most difficult of them all. 

Showing the child that when we are enraged, we breathe through it, we take a break, we acknowledge the anger but don't act on it. 

Showing the child that it's ok to be mad and sad and to cry and to let it all out because things have been building up inside for a while. 

These emotions are ok. 

Acting on them (throwing, hitting, swearing) is not. 

Teaching them this emotional management that many parents have never learned. 

Because when you were angry, you were "bad" and that was it.

Also, no yelling, no spanking, no punishments, no threats.

I know some may not agree but building a relationship on fear is not my goal. 

I don't want my child to be afraid of me because I am bigger and can make her do things she doesn't want to and I can punish her at any time.

I want her to do the things I ask for because we respect each other.

Utopia?

Maybe.

Some of the things I've mentioned are easy to do. 

I didn't like plastic to begin with, for example. 

But I can't do it all.

I can manage T.V. time (or computer time, to be more accurate since we don't have a T.V.). I used to play Baby Einstein for my daughter to get 25 minutes of peace.  

I only nurse once or twice/day and I would stop if I could (I think it's been enough as it is). 

I can try as hard as I want to have a regular bedtime and bed-routine, on some days it will still be a struggle. My daughter will go to bed late and invariably awake earlier than usual the next morning. 

If daycare was a possibility for us, I might try part-time.

Also, I can't have a piping hot home-cooked meal full of veggies every day.

But most of all, I cannot show my daughter how to manage her emotions all the time because I am still not able to manage my own. 

I will yell and will feel guilty about it and will apologize and will yell again.

I will have days when my meltdown might be just as bad as hers.

I will say some egregious threats in complete despair.

I will slam a door and scare her. And then feel like a looney. 

Children will always frustrate their parents.

However, parents will also frustrate their children with their flaws and shortcomings and inability to be kind, patient and loving in crucial moments. 

Because Mom simply cannot be perfect. 

She will serve microwave meals and ignore the child when she wants to finish her conversation on the phone.

She will choose formula after 3 months of terror and unbearable nipple pain.

She will put her child in daycare at 12 weeks because she wants to keep her job.

She will scream at her kids like a maniac because it's 9 p.m. and they have been ignoring her for the past 25 minutes. 

She will play Baby Einstein on her phone in the store because she wants to shop for 20 minutes in peace and actually be aware of what she is putting in her cart. 

She will snap at her child because she can't take another sentence uttered in the nerve-wrecking whining tone. 

Maybe one day the child will understand that you gave it your all even if it didn't seem like much back then. Maybe she won't. 

Either way, be kind to yourself. You are trying. 

And you are there even when it's all falling apart. 

And that's the most important lesson to teach.

It takes a village. But what kind?

I regularly bump into articles and studies suggesting that today's nuclear family (mom + dad + kid/s) is not how things should be.

It is not normal or natural.

It is a product of modern times.

Exhausted moms have told me they are doing it all and they feel it is not right.

There should be backup out there. 

Preferably one that does not cost a fortune.

"It takes a village to raise a child not one or two people" some would tell me. 

And I used to agree. 

I still do, partly. 

Having no close family around, I would practically fantasize about being with Loud Baby's grandparents, letting them take over for a couple of hours, having someone else do the cooking and laundry sorting. 

I would picture this ideal family in a literal village where grandparents, aunties, uncles and cousins come and go, help out, pitch in, tell stories and there you have it: one big family raising the kids together, being there for each other. 

As it should be, as it used to be. Maybe even under one big roof. 

And then I went home for a few months.

All the grandparents were amazing with Loud Baby.
Their help was invaluable.
Feedings, walks, games, diaper changing.
They helped with pretty much everything except nursing, night wakings and putting Loud Baby to bed.
They had loads of patience while mine had been worn thin.
They had energy to play silly games when all I wanted was a nap.
They were so happy to have their only grandchild with them, they wanted to make the most of it.
And I was more than glad to let them be the stars in the Loud Baby show.

After a few weeks, though, I was as stressed as I had been when it was just our nuclear family.
I wanted it to be "just us" again which seemed ludicrous considering I had daydreamed about having the "big happy family" be together only a few weeks before.

But there was friction.
There was overt and covert criticism.
And more criticism.
"Why won't you pierce her ears?".
"Why are you giving her baby food from the store instead of making it? It's surely filled with preservatives and chemicals".
"Why isn't she wearing any socks?" (a big favorite).
"What kind of shoes are those? Those are terrible shoes. I can't believe how bad those shoes are".
"Why does it always have to be the way you want it?"
"Her breathing is weird. Her legs are weird. Her crawling is weird. Maybe she should see a doctor".
"How long are you going to be out? Where are you going?"
"You ate while you were out? That's weird." (this is when grandparents forget you are not the kid living under their roof anymore and they revert to their old roles).
Going out to eat during nap time despite my explaining it is not a good idea and then being grumpy because Loud Baby cried through all of it.
"You should be more patient with your child!".
 
Anyway, you get the point.
Basically, you feel like you are doing it all wrong (like a new mom needs that).
But you don't say much because the help you are getting is amazing.
And you wonder about the socks, and the earrings and the breathing and the food you are feeding your child. 
Things you didn't used to worry about before, because for some reason they all seemed ok.

By the end of it, you wonder whether the nuclear family wasn't formed because the younger people just wanted to do it their own way, be that as it may.
And the grandparents wonder why you shut down when they only want to give you well-meaning advice and suggestions.
And you seem ungrateful.
So you can't ask them not to put on videos for the one-year old without them rolling their eyes.

I guess not being under the same roof would solve some of the problems.
Unfortunately, that is not an option for us, being so far away and only rarely visiting.

It is wonderful to have help.  It always is.
However, I've found that I personally prefer to do the extra work for my baby, than have the village do it while constantly questioning my parenting ways.
I can do that by myself.

Nevertheless, thank you, village, for all your effort!
It's great to know you are out there.

No, I don't want another child. Exclamation mark.

I love kids. I really do.

I love to watch them learn and grow and I have always wanted to be a mom.

After we got married, people soon started asking when we were going to have a child.

Um...I don't know. I can make all the plans I want but there are other forces at work.

If you know what I mean.

Deciding to have a child is a huge deal.

It's natural and normal for most couples, but nevertheless it remains a huge deal.

After Loud Baby was born, my life became centered around this one tiny person.

There was no time for myself. Or my husband. Or anything else.

When you have a high spirited child who shrieks at the very thought of being handed over to someone else, you suck it up and assume your role.

It's not like your social circle is teeming with people who are eager to take care of someone so tiny and so unhappy.

(On a side note: for about three months we managed to put Loud Baby in daycare twice a week. When we told the caregivers we were moving, there were sighs of relief around us and one lady even texted her friend to let her know about the good news.)

A few months after Loud Baby turned one, I noticed I was carrying an extra bag of irritation and frustration in addition to the regular burdens of everyday life.

So I tried to trace back the emotions to the thoughts that were triggering them.

The answer was simple: I was being pressured to have another child.

And everything in my heart was telling me I was not ready.

And I felt guilty about it, about not wanting my non-existent second baby.

Talk about crazy.

Most of my friends who had given birth around the same time I had were already pregnant or trying to be.

Everywhere I went, strangers would say how beautiful Loud Baby was, ask about her age and then promptly proceed to say it was time for another one.

They knew so well.

Everyone was so sure.

Except me.

But nobody seemed to care or even ask about any of the factors that would suggest it's a good idea to go for another baby...things like whether I was getting enough sleep, if I had any help, if we had money or insurance or room in the house.

These are personal things so people don't ask them.

But they jump on you with advice for having more kids.

And that is, for some insane and not-understood-by-me reason, ok to do.

Doormen would tell me one is not enough, maintenance people would state now was the time, friends and relatives would ask if we were "working on it".

I used to be polite and evasive.

My answer now is: no. Not right now, not for a while.

I have many reasons which people don't care to hear so I don't bother.

I ignore the "What a weird person. She must really hate kids" look and move on.

But to anyone out there going through a similar situation, I will write down my reasons.

They are messy details that nobody cares to hear but which are part of a mom's messy life nonetheless.

1. My daughter has started sleeping through the night 3 months ago. There's a lot of sleep I need to catch up on out there. Around 2 years to be exact, considering I was not sleeping much in the last weeks of my pregnancy. Only a sleep-deprived person gets this so I don't bother explaining anything to moms whose kids slept at night when they were 2 weeks old.

2. I am tired of crying. Of baby crying in the night and me crying from exhaustion. Our nights are peaceful. After all this time. It is amazing. I cringe at the thought of needing to get up over and over and over again. Loud Baby cried so much in her first year, it is hard to describe. I don't want to hear anymore baby cries for a while. Toddler cries are enough for now.

3. I am still breastfeeding. My breasts are a complete mess. They often hurt. I cannot yet wean because my toddler sleeps more if I nurse her than if I don't which means a better rested toddler which means a better day. I cannot and will not tandem feed. My breasts need a break after Loud Baby will finally be done.

4. We cannot afford daycare. Or a nanny. We have no grandparents to help us. It is me and my husband. We manage as we do, with him being able to continue his work from home in case I call him and ask him to come as soon as he can because both the kid and I are burning with fever.

5. Loud Baby is a spirited child. Which means she is stubborn, demanding, and very, very intense. It is amazing to be around her when she is happy and gets creative. It is an endurance test to help her through her tantrums. Did I mention she was 2? Tantrums are a constant presence.

I am in awe of moms who have two or more kids close together and can do it all.

I am just not one of them.

And for me, it is better to be a sane mom to one child, than an exhausted wreck to two kids.

Some call this selfish.

Some say I am missing out.

A lot of research, however, says that a difference of four years and more is easier on the mom and first baby.

I am sure you can find the exact opposite too, but for now  I will stick with this one.

When I hate being a Mom

Recently, I have read quite a few posts and articles about a paradox of motherhood. 

It goes like this: 

Mom loves kid. 

Mom would not give up kid for anything. 

But Mom hates being Mom. At times. 

And here I was, thinking I was alone. 

And crazy.

And selfish.

There are some days when I want to press the forward button all the way up to bedtime. 

And then I feel guilty because "they grow up so fast and you will miss these days".

Maybe when I am 70, I will have forgotten enough to actually miss these days.

As for now? Not so much.  

These days mean Loud Baby cries about everything.

And whines about the rest.

Example: she asks for small pink ball.

Mommy obliges.

She looks at the ball like it is an offensive object.

"No no" she whines. "I don't want pink ball".

So  Mommy takes it away.

And then she cries because I took it. 

And when I try giving it back, she cries and says she don't want it.

Sigh. 

These days mean Loud Baby won't play on her own for 5 minutes.

These days mean I can't prepare food without her throwing a tantrum on the kitchen floor because I won't let her pour the couscous into hot boiling water.

These days she throws her books and blocks.

These days she spits out her food.

These days she wants to bite and hit people. 

These days she cries because it's Tuesday, and because there's a cloud in the sky, and because grapes are purple (not green), and because she is in the car, and because she is not in the car. 

 

So here are a couple of confessions that will make me eligible for the bad/selfish mom category.

Oh well.

On these days I want to take the day off. 

Maybe two hours? 

I could pass her off to a grandparent or a friend or a sitter without remorse and go take a nap. 

I know bad behaviour comes with the package. 

I know it's in my job description to help her with her tantrums and overwhelming emotions about pink balls. 

I know you can't have only the good stuff. 

I still want to run away and hide until it's over especially after I am out of ideas. 

Speaking about running away, I miss just grabbing my bag, getting into the car and driving to a place.

No checking for sippy cups, snacks, diapers, wipes etc. 

No struggles about getting into the car seat.

No whining from the backseat "Dropped my water/doll/cracker" x 10.

Or deciding to go for a stroll with my husband in the evening. Just like that. 

There is no more "just like that". And I sometimes miss it. 

Lingering in bed in the morning. Just like that. 

Deciding to not go home after all but pop in for a movie.

Being able to see things in a store, not just staring at toddler level and waiting for the next disaster to happen.

Taking a sick day when sick and having peace and quiet and lying in bed. With a book.

So, yes, momminess is not a bed of roses. 

I would love to love every moment of it.

But I don't.

And it's unrealistic to be expected to love it all. 

And, yes, I do miss bits and pieces of my pre-mommy life. 

And, no, I have no idea what I am doing sometimes. 

And, yes, I feel guilty about whatever I just wrote.

Because there are bad things out there, and sick kids, and people who want kids, and abandoned kids and here I am complaining about something that is normal.

It's all a big bucket of craziness. 

But even when angry, and exhausted, and disappointed, and nostalgic and even empty, I still know I love my Loud Baby. 

Even if I can't feel it right then.

Even if I hate being the Mom right then because I am out of energy and ideas and empathy and want some "me" time.

I'll have "me" time when I am older. Too much of it even.

For now, it's baby time. 

 

 

Baby sleep experts vs. Baby

It took a while.

But I got there.

The point when you are reading your fourth book on baby sleep, desperate for a miracle solution and you realize... this can't be right!!

Loud Baby must have been around 4 months old when I was sitting in the library parking lot trying to find something (anything!) in the pages of the book I was holding that would help me understand how babies sleep. 

Or don't sleep, to be more precise.  

Reading was not an easy thing to do.

My mind was so tired I would rather have used the book as a pillow. 

A few months and three baby books later, this Mommy had given up.

The only effect all the reading had in our household was me constantly explaining to my husband how our baby should be sleeping because "it says so, in the book!". 

In other words, it added to my frustration. 

Why?

Because these books could not contradict themselves more. 

Let's take the Big Guys, shall we?

On the one hand, there's Dr. Weissbluth. 

He is an advocate for crying-it-out.

Sure, he will describe other options but it is pretty clear he thinks letting the baby cry-it-out ("it" what?!) is a great choice which will help the kid learn the much coveted skill of self-soothing and falling asleep on their own. 

According to him, babies should be able to sleep through the night starting around 6 months all the way up to one year. 

On the other hand, if you give in to your child's cries, you will deprive him of a learning opportunity.

The baby will learn that he needs to cry to get your attention. 

He won't learn to self-soothe and as a young adult he will be an addict looking for others to fulfil his needs.

Or something like that.

So basically if you don't follow his method, you screw up your kid.

Then there's Dr. Sears and his family gang. 

The father of attachment parenting.

According to him, babies should not be expected to sleep through the night  until... later. 

Like in a few years.

And of course, you should never ever ever let a child cry it out. 

Do whatever it takes to soothe him even if that means living your life on a yoga ball for two years. 

If you let the baby cry, he warns, he will learn not to trust you. 

You will have sabotaged your bond with the kid and you will be a traitor in his eyes. 

So basically if you don't follow his method, you screw up your kid.

Then there's Mr. Intermediate, or Dr. Ferber.

Famous for ferberizing. 

In summary, he says you let the baby cry only for a bit and then go into her room for a minute or so. Then let her cry some more and go in again after 10 minutes. Then wait 15 minutes until going in and so on.

Piece of cake. 

Keeping track of 5 minute intervals at 3 a.m. is completely feasible.

According to him, a child can sleep through the night starting at 4 months.

(I showed my kid this passage when she was 9 months old and not exactly sleeping through the night and she said it all sounded logical. Then she woke up 4 times that night).

There are various expert opinion from other well-meaning individuals like Dr. Cohen, Tracy Hogg in "The Baby Whisperer", Dr. Harvey Karp, Elizabeth Pantley  and last but not least, a myriad of parents who swear by one of these people.

Either way, the big three remain: the parent ignores the cries, the parent soothes the baby with whatever works (car rides, nursing, swings, singing, holding, whatever), the parent goes in and out of baby's room for a while and cannot understand how baby ended up in bed with her in the morning.

These books can help.

These books can induce panic.

These books might tell you babies need help to sleep and unless you do something, you will never sleep again.

I tried a chaotic combination of everything. 

I stuck to one method long enough until I finally had to admit it wasn't working. 

Then tried another. 

But be careful. You can't talk about the methods you are using with everyone. 

Choose your friends carefully.

If you tell the wrong person you were beyond despair and let your baby cry it out a few times, they might ask for your head on a plate for being the.worst.mom.ever. 

Now that my baby is finally sleeping at night after no less than 21 months I can write my own super smart book about how I did it. 

On second thought, here is the gist of it:

There are no recipes. 

Love your baby. Love yourself.

And find a balance that can get you both through the night. 

The stay-at-home-mom: a quick look at the specimen

The stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) is a rather peculiar being.

First, I reserve my right to object to the title.

It's misleading.

It suggests you do nothing but stay ... at home.

Inactively.

Sure.

Being a SAHM doesn't have much to do with staying in one place.

You're running around a lot of the time. 

Doing the things that keep life rolling but which are not fancy or glamourous.

You know, the kind your mom did for years and years but you didn't notice much. 

Like picking things up. All. the. time.

Toys and more toys, clothes, crumbs, crackers, wrappings, banana peels...and God knows what unidentifiable things. 

Once you are done, you can start again. 

Then there's laundry and ironing and stain removing.

Cleaning, scrubbing and disinfecting. 

Cooking, grocery shopping...

There's...oh who cares?!

It's boring to write it all down, it's boring to talk about it and so it might seem it is not  a valuable thing. 

Except it is. 

Because if I ask someone over to vacuum, dust and scrub my toilet, I have to pay them good money. 

Not to mention having someone for childcare! Babysitter, daycare, nanny...

Before I got pregnant, I had a full-time job, I was tutoring a couple of kids and I was finishing up my Master's. 

I was busy. And hyper. And exhausted. 

I felt very productive.

Now?  

I am pretty hyper and exhausted and productive as a SAHM as well. 

In a completely different way.

It took some time to get used to it.

But most days, I am really enjoying it. 

I like to be there and see my kid blooming, learning and growing into herself. 

For many months I had this nagging thought that I wasn't doing enough.

That it was not enough to just be a mom.

I had to have a job. Bring home a paycheck. 

Be super-mom and super-employee or whatever. 

But then, one day at the library it was story time and I went with Loud Baby.

There were soo many kids.

Also, there were two dads, about 5 moms and a lot of nannies. 

Some nannies were sweet and enthusiastic.

Some were bored out of their wits as it happens to adults stuck in a kids' program. 

As for me, I was glad I was the one there with my daughter, having the chance of getting bored.

And I didn't.

I enjoyed all her babbling and reading the same book ten times and singing the same song 12 times. 

It's not always like that but I'd rather I were the person she can nag and annoy and drive crazy. 

Because then I also get to be the person she learns from and the one she delights with her silliness. 

Maybe one day there will be no choice, and I will have to get a job.

Maybe one day I will simply feel it is time for me to look for work. 

But it will be because I want to or need to, not because of the ingrained belief that a SAHM is inferior, not living up to her potential, not doing enough...you name it. 

Time to go read "Where is baby's belly button". Loud and proud :)