I have a photo of me in Ray Bans and a bright green bikini top, climbing sandstone rocks on a beach in Costa Rica. I’m smiling, teeth white against my dark skin. On the back of the photo, these words in my handwriting: March 1996, for Dee, so you’ll know what your mama was up to six months after you were born.
Rosa from work snapped the shot. She and Kevin and I were on a two-week trip to Central America. Guatemala and El Salvador the first week, weekend at Manuel Antonio, and the second week in San José. Rosa and Kevin went on to Honduras and Panamá, while I flew back home to be with my baby.
It’s a long story, how I ended up in Central America when Dee was only six months old. Suffice to say that it had to do with a grant proposal I submitted on behalf of the university I worked for when I was pregnant. The proposal was funded, and I had to follow through with the trip or risk losing the money.
As with most international travel, it was Hell getting mentally prepared. A jet plane crashed in the region weeks before I left, killing everyone on board. All I could think was, I’m going to die and never see my baby grow up. Of course, once I got there I was pulled into the color and smells and sounds. I loved it.
Between appointments, I had to run to my hotel room and power on my little battery-operated breast pump. Waoo-waoo-waoo-waoo, it went, like a sick cow, for twenty minutes. I sat on the bed with my blouse unbuttoned and tried not to worry about whether I’d dry up by the time I got home.
Later, walking past indigenous women sitting on the sidewalk, infants in bundles on their backs or in their arms, I pictured my watery milk running down the sink and wished I could pick up a baby and feed it.
“Ew, that’s disgusting!” Rosa said when I told her what I wanted to do.
That trip, Dee refused to take the bottle. Typical conversation those first days I called home:
Has she taken it yet?
Nope, just spits it out.
My God, what are you gonna do?
Everyone says she’ll take it when she gets hungry enough.
Have you tried other nipples?
Yeah, went through four new ones today.
I’m sorry.
It’s alright. She’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Click.
Everyone was wrong. Dee never took the bottle. No other options left, Jim finally introduced rice cereal.
I was thinking about that trip yesterday. The postcards I’d sent from Vietnam had just arrived, and I remembered how before I left for Central America I prepared a postcard a day for Jim to read to Dee. I didn’t actually send them; I left them for him to show her, a new one each day.
I went on a lot of trips while both my babies were young. I left the university when Dee was about a year old; new job yet one thing remained the same—still plenty of travel.
I remember sending baggies of frozen breast milk over dry ice for Em when I took a week-long training course in Eugene, Oregon. I became expert at pumping in mothers’ rooms at work and in airports. Life revolved around finding the best place and time to run my little machine.
I pumped milk in the Portland airport. I used the private kiddy bathroom, which had a plug so I could use electric. After 15 minutes, someone jiggled the door and it turned out to be a cleaning woman. At first she scolded me for using the kiddy bathroom; apparently a woman had complained about not having access to the changing table. But when I explained that I was pumping and that I appreciated the privacy, she seemed to understand.
I’m coming home with something for everyone: Em’s milk, a watch with a floating dinosaur for Dee, a Nike fleece sweatshirt for Jim.
Before we had kids, Jim and I made the decision that one of us would stay home full-time to take care of them. We both came from families where a parent stayed home, and we wanted to do the same thing for our kids if we could afford it. Which we could, barely at first. Jim got the role of stay-at-home Dad, and I got to pursue my dream of working in a job where I could travel.
But it wasn’t easy being away from my children. All the time I was on the road, I wondered if they would grow up and resent my being gone. Yet when I was home I was a present parent, more so, I imagined, than dads in my same situation. Bone tired, I took over the moment I got home. Evenings and weekends were always mine.
My girls are both old enough now that I can see they’ve not been damaged. On the contrary, they are bold and adventurous from spending formative years with a parent who let them walk on roofs versus one with a fear of heights. They love being outdoors, think nothing of catching snakes and frogs, and are up for long hikes.
They also want to get to know this world. “Take me to Vietnam,” they tell me. I promise them that I will. Hopefully next summer.
They’re in for a wild experience.
I’m jealous! Of both you and the kids 🙂
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i know. what an interesting life you have lead. i love the way you write. it’s so engaging.
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You know, it’s a good life. And then, there’s also this part of me that also wants something I don’t have…sometimes I wish I could have been the one to stay home. I especially used to second-guess our choices two-three years ago when I went part-time for a short while so I could spend more time as Dee was entering that really critical age for girls. I worried that I’d missed the boat and missed an opportunity to influence her in a certain way.
But now I see she’s so awesome just the way she is. Now when I fantasize about being the one to stay home, I’d pursue my art and writing while they’re in school.
But you know, we made our choices, and I love what they offer to all of us as a family. But I’ll probably always be the kind of person who never quite appreciates it as fully as I should.
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How strange you should post this now…..I’m sitting here with my stomach in knots at the thought of going on a writing retreat and leaving the boys. I’ve only ever had occasional nights away from them, my other half is the worker/traveller in our equation, and I don’t feel good about going. But you know what, I’m going to try and focus on the color and sounds and smells…….thanks.
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Electric breast pumps are the best, they really do work, like the power tools they are. Who says only men like power tools? They must not have ever used a pump.
I admire that you continued to breastfeed throughout your travels. And the travels! I’m so happy for you that you didn’t miss out. I’ve made a few long distance trips since my boys were young, and like you, once I was there I loved every minute of it. They enjoyed getting the presents when I came home, and now they too want to see the world, like your kids.
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I am in awe of you, ybonesy! To continue to breastfeed while working away from home, to send the milk home had to involve a lot of time and place juggling.
The fact that Jim stayed home while you jetted about for work is really good modelling for your daughters in what is possible as useful roles for both parents – outside the expected way of doing things – and yes, that alternate role-fulfillment can lead to a rich family life as well as a personal one.
Of course, even after having made peace with how you’d lead your life and juggle your doings, it’s quite natural to wonder if how you had decided to do things had negative impacts on your children. All parents struggle with this one – it’s the nature of the beast. But, generally, if one works hard, enjoys all aspects of life and performs with heart and mind in congruence, then kids don’t seem to suffer. G
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I think it’s wonderful that Jim was the one to stay home and that he was comfortable with his role. It tells me he’s a patient, modern thinking man…and those are few…even now. I think the stories you write express a very telling sign, that together, you chose the right path for all 4 of you.
We all ask ourselves “what if” because we as humans can never settle on what we have. I think that’s a positive thing…to always question…as long as we learn from it and live without regrets. But yb, when you look into your daughters faces, when you hear them speak their own minds and you see their actions working in a way that makes you proud…well, your answer is there…isn’t it?
I do so love this world for the many ways it shows us…of doing the right thing…and how they vary so greatly for each individual and each family. It makes everything so much more interesting to observe or participate in.
I have 3 best friends…all with children…and they all chose to stay at home, regardless of the consequences. They sacrificed and scraped by…and their efforts show daily in the children produced from those sacrifices. I am proud to say I know at least 5 children in this world, that this childless woman, are very proud to know.
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Heather, very cool that your best friends all did what they had to do to be able to stay home with their kids. It *is* financially hard. That’s the reason I left my university job, in fact, because we weren’t making ends meet.
But you’re right, there are so many ways to live and love and raise kids. My sister is a single parent and her kids are amazing, and I have wonderful nieces who were the products of homes where a parent stayed home.
What kind of surprises me is that I don’t meet nearly as many couples as I thought I would where the father stays home and the mother works outside the home. After 13 years, I met maybe about four or five only. In reality, it’s a pretty unconventional choice to make. And, I have to say that we each struggled with our respective roles for those first two years. It was tough, and I’m certain neither of us was comfortable with our roles at first.
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G., I have to say, in hindsight it seems extreme, the things I went through to “have it all,” as we say. And to *be* it all. I only sent the milk home once, but for Em I would pump extra milk for days and freeze it in preparation for my travel (she did take a bottle).
I’m not sure how it is for new mothers now–I have a feeling it’s still the same—but I felt so much pressure to be a perfect mother. I remember how worried I was that by introducing rice cereal earlier than the recommended “after the child’s first birthday,” we were going to cause Dee to have food allergies or be sickly later in life.
Em weaned herself at just under a year—maybe even eight or nine months. I was relieved, to tell you the truth.
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Jo, I can only imagine. Really. I know how much I go through before my trips, and probably even more so if it’s something for me and not required by work. But I bet you’ll sink into it very quickly. You’re going to be steeped in what you love to do, so it will be about much more than sights and sounds. We’re talking soul. When do you leave?
Christine, your boys strike me as being very creative and individual and worldly. I’d love to learn more about what you think might have led to the making of them.
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You’ll laugh at this, I think, ybonesy…
I worked two mornings a week when my first two were little – after #3 it was soooooo much easier to stay home and learn to live on less money.
But the story – I had a girlfriend/neighbor take care of my first child while I went to work. Then her husband got laid off. My girlfriend was a med tech and found a job quickly. Her husband took over the house, kids, etc. So my little girl went over to play with “Daddy Rick” and his 2 kids a couple of mornings a week.
Rick thought it was the best thing that ever happened to him; my friend was not quite so spirited at first, but it worked out well after the adjustment period.
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Ha-ha, that is quite the coincidence, Bo.
You know, depending on the person, one might be better suited for working at home than the other. Maybe that was the ideal role for Rick. I know our respective roles fit me and Jim very well, although we struggled with what it meant to buck the system, so to speak. I wonder if your friends had to come to peace with their role reversal—was that the adjustment period?
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A woman after my own heart… this brought back so many memories from my years as a “breeder”…now that all 3 of my children are grown, they have a permanent condition: travel lust. I take full credit. And no regrets.
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I’m so jealous with your travels! Unfortunately, it’ll look like I’ll be a “permanent student” for goodness knows how long.
Well, it seems to me that your kids have gotten that adventurous side from their own mother!! LOL. 😛 How cool is that? Even though you’ve been through a lot, juggling in between travels, work, and family life, I think your experiences are well worth it, and plus, it is from these experiences that mold you into how you are today. It’s a lot of sacrifice but sometimes a little give and take is all well worth it at the end! I am really in awe of your strength. I’m still learning how to juggle work, school, and personal life, and I really can’t imagine how difficult it would be if I were a mother! Thanks for the “mother tips/experiences”! 🙂 And of course, thanks for sharing your memoir.
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ybonesy, I’ve been out most of the weekend and am just getting a chance to sink into this piece. I’m most struck by your courage. And the quiet strength of Jim. You seem to balance each other that way.
I met a couple down the street a few weekends ago who were having a garage sale (we bought a little white microwave cabinet for the studio from them). He was a stay-at-home father and artist. She was the breadwinner and traveler, and I thought about you and Jim.
I’m encouraged by those who are breaking the old molds of what it means to parent. I’m never going to know what it’s like to have my own kids. But I was old enough (and my mother was young enough) to have watched some of what my own parents went through. It seems like a lot has changed — but not the demands on women raising kids.
I often tell you how amazed I am at everything you get done in a day. But the other thing that happens, is that your kids provide a kind of structure to your life that couples who choose not to have kids do not have. It’s a different kind of life with different pressures.
All things I’m thinking about as I read your piece. The other thing I’m thinking about is international travel, something I’ve never done. But your reference to the plane crash and the brief fear you felt — a friend here just went to India and I had that same cringe when I heard about the hotel bomb in Pakistan. The world gets smaller and smaller.
It sounds like you have no regrets. And that your girls are stronger for what you and Jim have gone through. It’s amazing to keep following them through your writing. They have an amazing mother.
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Great post, yb. If you get to Vietnam (again) let me know, I’ll meet ya there.
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It seems like a lot has changed — but not the demands on women raising kids.
QM, your statement here reminds me of warning I got from a friend who said, “Don’t fall into the trap of doing it all–working outside the home and then coming home and feeling like you need to then cook, clean, and work as if ‘home’ were your second job.”
Fortunately, Jim took his role and job to heart. He did all the cooking, and he always made great meals with meat, veggies, and potatoes, or, you know, more than one thing on the plate. I called them “Grandma meals.”
Interestingly, we’ve both gotten burned out on our respective roles at one time or another. I’m coming off a period of two-plus years of having great work-life balance, part of which was spent working only part-time. I’m ready for challenge in work. And Jim went on a cooking hiatus for a while, but now we’re sharing that duty again as he has more outside work with the land and tractor and irrigation than ever before.
QM, travel can be risky. I remember especially feeling vulnerable in Israel. But other places, too. I think the most courageous are people who opt to live as expats in other countries.
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Will do, stevo. Hey, speaking of an expat. You probably don’t feel so vulnerable being that your wife comes from there.
Deborah, speaking of kids, I just helped my oldest fill out an application to do an exchange—in another country. Wow. She’s growing up!!
a~lotus, I have to say that my years in college were among the least balanced of my life. In fact, for a while I vowed to never read another text book or historical non-fiction book for years, many years, and to only read junk. It didn’t last, but talk about burn out. I’m impressed that you manage to write poetry and make mandalas and do blogging—all ways to get a break from studying and writing papers and taking tests.
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Thanks, yb. Doing those things keep me sane. I’ve always been an artist and poet at heart. 🙂 One feels less stressed and burdened when all thoughts spill on paper. So paper is like land, and thoughts make land a mess, but if you know how to use those thoughts effectively, they become good recycled materials instead of junk! 😛
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What an inspiration both you and Jim were / are to your girls!!
You have inspired us too. Thank you!
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