And Baby Makes Three

In all of the navel-gazing we new moms do over the future of our careers once baby arrives, so much focus is often given to the impact of those decisions on the mom-baby relationship that the equally-important impact on the power dynamic of marriages is often left unexplored.  These dynamics, however, often make for the most interesting of discussions when I get together with my other new mom friends, especially in a work-crazed town like Washington, DC.  They also played a critical role in my decision to remain in the work force post-baby. 

I like to think that D.C. is unique - although not unlike other large cities - when it comes to the typical path to marriage and motherhood.  With the intense focus on work in this town, it is not uncommon for marriages and birth of children to happen later in life, often after a woman has already enjoyed an extensive career.  While all of this may sound perfectly sequenced, it also means that women who meet their future spouses at this point in their lives are often viewed by them as busy, in-demand career women who would never be caught with unwashed hair, wearing three-day-dirty yoga pants.  When baby arrives, however, the whole shape of a couples' relationship may be turned upside down as they shift into their new roles as bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived parents.   

In my own case, a careful view of the potential impact on my marriage of my options played a critical part - if not the most significant part - in my decision to remain a working mom.  Maybe it was hormones or the ugly competitive streak I try to so hard to bury, but even on maternity leave, I would find myself feeling upstaged when my husband would put on his suit and drive off to work every morning. 

Even though I wanted nothing more than to spend every waking moment with my baby and would cry instantaneously at the thought of leaving her to return to work, some terrible force would well-up inside of me when I would think of the grueling months spent studying for the bar exam, the years of honing my legal skills as an associate, and the countless hours devoted to deciphering every page of the health reform law.  I would find myself saying snarky, crazy things like, "Where are YOU going in that suit?  Don't you know that I went to school for X number of years?"  And, after turning my brain inside-out over my path forward, I marveled at the fact that my husband didn't feel the need to do the same to himself in deciding whether or not to be a stay-at-home dad.

As much as remaining in the work-world has been the right decision for me so far, I readily recall the joy of one of my colleagues at his wife's decision to quit practicing law to stay home with their kids. He had not wanted to pressure her to make this decision, but felt that both of them could not continue on their current paths in such demanding careers. In their case, having one spouse at home secured a great deal of calm and happiness in their marriage.

Although some may read this blog post and misinterpret it as a brief description of parents obsessed with their careers, I hope it is instead understood as one person's recognition that these dynamics are important considerations in the difficult decisions women face post-baby.  It is also an argument in support of the fact that the microscope we find ourselves under (and put ourselves under at times) in justifying whether to stay home or work should expand well-beyond the simple decisions of whether or not we want to spend all of our time with our babies to (a resounding yes!) to consider the broader and more complex dynamics of the most important of our adult relationships.

Dabbling in Voluntary Simplicity

Now that I've finally put into words all of my complicated feelings about integrating a career with new motherhood, I can finally begin focusing on what this blog is supposed to be about:  trying to create a simpler life as a working mom in a career-obsessed city.  This is a tall order in our nation's capitol, where workaholism is the norm, the morning rush hour lasts for nearly five hours, and a one-bedroom apartment costs as much as a five-bedroom brick colonial in most small towns.

This project to simplify my life is not a new one; it's actually one that's been slowly gnawing away at me over the past ten years, increasing in urgency and pitch since having a child.  There are few ideas about life I had ten years ago that I view today as very noteworthy, realistic, or mature.  One lifestyle concept I spent a fair amount of time exploring in my undergraduate thesis - and that still sticks in my head today - is the direct relationship between mental well being and our culture of conspicuous consumption.  The study went beyond the more simple fallacy that non-material needs can be met with material goods to explore the more complicated, consumption-driven treadmill of working longer hours to make more money to buy more stuff. 

The primary reason for focusing my thesis on these dynamics was my interest in diving into the world of the simplicity movement, also known as voluntary simplicity.  Although voluntary simplicity is not a new concept, it was popularized in the 1970s and experienced a rebirth of sorts over the past few years in the wake of the financial crisis.  At the most general level, adopting a lifestyle based on voluntary simplicity involves making conscious decisions to simplify life so there is more time to cultivate personal relationships, engage in hobbies, spend time in nature, or nurture your spiritual side.

The stories of voluntary simplicity followers that I've found the most intriguing over the years are those about individuals who decide to live in smaller homes, pare down on fancy material possessions, or work reduced hours (even if they don't have children) so they have more time for non-work pursuits.  They essentially let go of the "keeping up with the Joneses" mentality and opt for a life less focused on material achievements. 

I felt like I had found a solid road map for life when I stumbled upon voluntary simplicity in college.  Although I never really believed I'd become a serious follower, I felt strongly about building a life with family, friends, and hobbies as the center, with my career filling in the rest of the circle.  Then the reality of living in an expensive city, coupled with six figures of law school loan debt and a career in BigLaw, hit me head on.  I still tried to keep friends and family as a priority, but the truth is, when I wasn't working, all I was doing was thinking about work. 

With each year that passed, my life became increasingly more complicated and farther away from the calm and centered sort of life I had promised to myself ten years ago.  So when I had the chance to make some major changes in my life this year, I decided to finally seize the opportunity to start down the road map I had made for myself so long ago.  I still have a long way to go, but I'm already liking what I see and enjoying rediscovering the not-so-serious and never-in-a-hurry version of myself who I remember from a distant past. 

In Rejection of "Supermom"

In a panic-stricken moment during my maternity leave, in the midst of moving laundry from the washer to the dryer, it occurred to me that if I decided to be a stay-at-home mom, I might actually have to do domestic chores on a long-term basis.  I've been surprised to learn that some adults - regardless of whether or not they work outside of the home - find ironing clothes, washing the car, or creating a gourmet meal to be not only therapeutic, but also satisfying. 

I always thought that when I became a wife and mom, I would somehow become more capable around the house and maybe even enjoy some of these domestic pursuits.  But I've always had a twisted relationship with domestic tasks, admiring friends who are skilled at things like baking, while knowing that I have no patience for the process required to make anything worth salivating over.

As my daughter quickly approaches her first birthday, I am both coming to terms with the reality that I will never be a domestic goddess and accepting that it's okay if I secretly loathe the majority of domestic tasks.  I've also begun re-evaluating my thinking that my failings in the domestic department should be equated with shortcomings as a mom.  Instead, it's turning out to be the case that carving out some of the domestic chores that I initially viewed as inseparable from motherhood has been invaluable in enabling me to integrate family and work.

Perhaps out of necessity when I was practicing law, I learned to be brutally efficient at managing my personal life, especially household chores.  Maybe as a result of spending several years in a profession where I recorded my time every day in six minute increments, with each increment worth a set amount of money, I became obsessed with "time is money"-type judgments about how I spent my hours outside the office.  What started as an online grocery ordering habit soon turned into a full-fledged love affair with the services industry and a further escape from any type of domesticity.

Luckily for me - at least from the standpoint of full disclosure - my husband and I met at a time when I didn't even change my own sheets and towels, so his domestic expectations of me were already pretty low.  He surprisingly even married me with full knowledge that I viewed one of my best domestic insights as the realization that, if I bought enough underwear, I could go two to three weeks without doing laundry.  Although my favorite refrain around the house is, "Can't I hire someone to do that?",
my husband has drawn the line at hiring a service to wash and iron our clothes (and, well, money doesn't grow on trees in this household). 

Now with a baby and full-time job, the "time is money" judgments have transformed into an equation that places the highest priority on preserving time spent with my family over any domestic tasks.  I am slowly finding that separating domestic talents from my personal definition of what motherhood means to me has not only made returning to work survivable, but has also added a semblance of calm and order to our house.  And it's given me what I crave most:  extra time focused solely on my daughter. 

Working Mama, Simple Life: The Blog

Living in a city where the first question people ask is, "What do you do?", rather than, "What is your name?", makes the already difficult decision of working versus staying home even more complex for a new mama.  Even after being raised to be out in the working world and spending many years building a career in law, I still was overwhelmed in making big decisions on integrating baby and career.  After many months of researching, analyzing, and discussing these issues with friends and family, I settled on a decision to strive for simplicity and calm in my family's life and to let that theme guide my decisions. This blog is my way of discovering the unknown path ahead through putting it into words and sharing it, hopefully, with others.  And a way to commit myself to remaining focused on the goal of living a simpler life in a power-driven and job-obsessed city.

Equally as important in defining what this blog is, is explaining what it is not. This blog is not a place for judgment on the decisions of others' in integrating career and baby. It also is not a venue for criticism of law firms, although I may discuss the facts of the practice of law as a whole from time to time.  I was lucky to spend my career at a firm where I was treated very fairly and was given the chance to practice with some really wonderful human beings.  I may even go back to it someday. 

A Third Path to Opting-in Versus Opting-Out

Before I became a mom, I naively believed that women fell neatly into the working-mom versus stay-at-home mom sides of the ages-old "mommy wars" and "opting-in" versus "opting-out" debate.  I thought that as soon as I had a baby it would be strikingly clear to me the side to which I belonged.  I had had friends who couldn't wait to return to the office after three months of maternity leave, as well as friends who quit their jobs the moment their pregnancy tests returned that little pink plus sign.  So I thought the decision would be just as black-and-white for me. 

After actually becoming a mom and spending six wonderful months on maternity leave, I realized the short-sightedness of my thinking.  No matter how many books I read, gut-wrenching conversations I had, or the different angles of analysis I applied, I would never be able to make a clear decision about my future that did not involve a little bit of opting-in and a little bit of opting-out. 

The more I delved into the subject, the more frustrated I felt at the lack of acknolwedgement of the deep complexity, particularly on an emotional level, of the decisions women face in making career choices post-baby.  Sure, there was plenty of analysis from either side of the mommy wars, pushing and pulling for one side or the other, with mentionings here and there about working part-time.  But little in the way of actually recognizing that some women will never feel comfortable in one camp or another.

In my own case, I ultimately decided to reject any polarized choices and follow a third path of trying to integrate work and family by making some difficult decisions.  Prior to marriage and baby, I had practiced law for many years in the fast-paced, high-stress/high-reward world of BigLaw.  Those who work in BigLaw or other emergency-oriented client services know, the nature of the practice requires client deadlines to come first and everything else to come second.  This was a commitment I knew I would no longer be able to uphold with a baby in my life.  Nor could I imagine how I would keep the stress I often felt in such a high-pressure environment from impacting my baby.  So I decided to press the "reset" button on my career and walk away from the chance to reach for the brass ring of partnership.

Many feminists would look at my decision to enter a non-legal, more flexible profession where I make less money as essentially "opting-out."  I prefer to think of it as following my own third path in the opting-in versus opting-out debate, re-shaping my life to find a new level of simplicity to integrate both career and family.  A few months into my new life, I realize that it will be a constant work in progress as I try to follow this middle road that winds through the mommy wars.