Working Motherhood AKA You're all assholes.

Today is my wedding anniversary.

I don't have time to write this blog but if I don't my head will explode.

Sadly, I'm about to take my next line (somewhat altered) from a Law and Order episode where an Indian doctor was lamenting about how he has to be twice as good as American doctors to be thought any good at all.

I have to be twice as good at both my jobs to be considered any good at either.

Any mother who works outside the home knows you now have two jobs where neither cares about the other. Obviously Daniel has no business caring about my paying job, and my paying job pretends to care about my (m)other job but honestly, when my notes are late because I had to call in because Daniel is sick, all that matters is that my notes are late.

I am the only case manager here with a young child. One of my co-workers couldn't have kids, the other one wants to but hasn't yet, and the other one has 3 grown daughters. I share an office with all of them.  On Thursday, when I am stressed out because the passive agressive project manager here (wtf does project manager even mean?) needs to get into my pumping room, which is also where they've piled tons of boxes filled with old paper charts, so I  have almost no room.  He wants in at 4:30, and the last time I came in to pump he gave me so much shit for asking him to step out for a few minutes, I just said fuck it and walked out. So he wants to come in on friday at 4:30. In order to get any milk, I have to pump at 5:30. He calls my co-worker, not me, and asks about where I am to see if I am in the room (hullo, passive agressive, call me, maybe you'll get accurate information). So I'm freaking out and I have to pump early so I don't have to hear shit from him (I know I should stand up and assert my right to pump whenever and fight whatever he says to get it done, ra ra, girl power. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed and I don't because one more thing will make me cry.)  So I'm freaking out about not having enough milk for Daniel the next day and one of my residents overhears and says "Formula, baby. I was a formula baby and I'm just fine." Ignore the irony of the fact that this is a very unhealthy substance abuser saying that. You ain't fine, sweetheart. But lets ignore that.

My SUPERVISOR responds with "That's right." Now this supervisor is nearing 60 and has discussed with me how her child's pediatrician told her "You just can't produce enough milk for this baby" for her child at 6 weeks (because she was eating every 1.5 hours, hello normal) so she switched to formula.  I'm sorry your doctor was uninformed because they didn't know this stuff back then and you're 200 years old.  But be supportive. Shut your face. 

Let me just hit you with some reality regarding breastfeeding while working. I have to pump for 20-30 minutes every 3 hours to get enough milk for him. Yes he's on solids but he is also supposed to continue to drink breastmilk up until he's one. He doesn't take the breast anymore (either because he's too distracted or because he's too used to the bottles and yes, we use low flow nipples).  My co-workers don't care that I'm overwhelmed, hell, my husband doesn't even care that I'm overwhelmed. I might stab someone. Who cares? Just do your job and be a mother. Stressed out from breastfeeding? GIVE UP! Fuck you. I don't think I've ever given up on anything, even abusive relationships. I listen to my stupid stupid heart and keep right on truckin.'

I don't think that I should be treated like a delicate fucking flower. I am not a delicate fucking flower. But I think that you should be supportive and if your opinion differs from something I'm doing, then being supportive sometimes means shutting your mouth.

I've had co-workers  here say they think it's "unsanitary" for my baby for me to pump and transport my my milk home. I've had co-workers get frustrated when I'm pumping and they can't get in contact with me. RELAX I WILL BE OUT SOON.

I want to do a breastfeeding seminar. Jesus. Unfortunately my boss would not think that was appropriate, because it's personal information. But if people had knowledge, maybe they would...you know, shut the fuck up.

Now. I love my job. A lot of my co-workers are great. But the one's that aren't, you're all assholes. Realize that I have one 24 hour job, and one 8 hour a day job.  And shut your mouth sometimes. 

I am a generally positive person but the negativity towards mothers who work outside the home is just stupid. I watch the stay at home moms in Alpine with their jewelry and their entitlement at Starbucks (demonstrated by lingering in packs in line and staring in wonderment at the menu like they've never seen it before when there is a line out the door behind them, and sniping at the baristas when their coffee has one and a half pumps of syrup instead of 2), and then I watch the stay at home mom with 5 kids who is stressed as hell and trying to hurry her kids up to make decisions so she won't hold up the line. I don't care that she's holding up the line. I see that she's stressed out and trying to do the right thing. The entitled ones can bite me. You are not special. I am not special. We chose to have children and bring them up in the world with a sense of fucking humility so they know that they don't get to treat people like garbage.
 
Go find a mirror, look in it and repeat after me: "I am not better than anyone."

Assholes.