The other day it hit me
I gave up being an editor
Of a major fashion magazine
So that I could chaperone my kids' school field trips
Oh sure, at the time
It seemed like the right thing to do
The kids were so thrilled
Mommy's coming to school with us!
Mommy's going on the bus with us!
Mommy's chaperoning the trip to the aquarium!
But the other day
When I was helping Josh
Move into his new apartment
Forty-five minutes from home
I asked him--
Do you remember when I chaperoned your trip to the aquarium
He looked at me with an understandably puzzled look
And said--
Uh, sort of, I guess?
It kind of deflates that whole motherly sacrifice thing, doesn't it?
To know that if you sacrifice correctly
Your kids are never actually aware
That you sacrificed?
But I don't resent them
I don't want you to think that
That I, you know, resent them
Because I don't
I just...I wonder if I could have done both
Could I have chaperoned the trips
And still been an editor?
I had sick time
I had vacation time
I had a husband, for crying out loud
And he certainly didn't lose any sleep
About not going to the aquarium
Isn't it funny that when mothers aren't there for their children all the time
It becomes this huge issue and their kids grow up to write books about them
But when fathers aren't present
When more often than not, they're NOT present
Everybody just says--
Well, what do you expect? They were making a living
At my peak, I was making triple what my husband was making working for that non-profit
And yet, when the time came for one of us to be a full-time parent
I don't think there was even a discussion about who would throw their career in the trash
And this wasn't in 1957, either
This was the early nineties
This was AFTER the feminist movement
So how did poor Brenda wind up sitting here
Twenty years later and--
Oh my God, was 1990 actually twenty years ago?
You know, I knew my kids would grow up
But I had no idea that the nineties would one day cease to be something
One could reach back and grasp
Without much difficulty
Anyway I'm sitting here
In an empty nest
...Well, not really empty.
Trish and Josh are gone
But Ben's still technically here
Although he just got his license
And we gave him Dan's old car
So I'm fully expecting to only see him at meals
From this point on
. . . . .
I chose to be a mother
I chose, and I stand by that choice
I'm just not entirely sure it was an informed choice
If someone had informed me
That the three people I was dedicating my life to
Would one day walk out on me
I might have tried to make being an editor work
In addition to being a mother
If someone had told me that the better you are at being a mother
The less your children need you when they grow up
I would have definitely renegotiated
At one time, I was a very smart business person
The better you do, the less you're needed
No wonder my children have given me the pink slip
My services are no longer necessary
My money, they can still use
And my ability to do laundry
But not my mothering
That they no longer need
At least, according to them
. . . . .
I was a damn good editor
I suppose I could go back to my old job
But it would feel like returning to a lover
One that I left for sippy cups and play dates
I'm back.
I've missed you--more than I feel I should have.
Will you still have me?
All the while I'd be standing still
While women younger than me
Walked around me
Looking at me like a relic
In a museum
The Woman Who Chose To Have Kids Before Forty
How sad
What would I tell those women?
About me
About my choice
All I can think of is the ball trick
The one where the magician shows you a ball
Then cups it in his hand
He puts his hands behind his back
Pauses, then brings them around front
And asks you to choose which hand the ball is in
You pick one, he opens it, no ball
Then he opens the other one, no ball
And perhaps at that point, he pulls it out of his ear or something
But it doesn't really matter
Because you still feel dumb
You didn't lose
But you didn't really win either
Because you made a choice before you realized
That the whole thing was a trick
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