The Hardest Hour of My Day as a Working Mom (And Why I Love It)

It’s 5:00 pm and by now, I’ve already been up since 5:00 am, taken care of my family, been at work all day playing firefighter, ring master at the zoo and trash collector. I’ve probably made a million different decisions between these 12 hours, spent endless amounts of time on the phone and starred at a computer screen all day. I’ve run personal errands and made personal phone calls during my lunch hour so no down time there. I’ve sat in endless meetings and been pulled in a million different directions all. day. long. It’s safe to say that by the end of the working day, my brain is toast. You would think that with all of that chaos crammed into 12 hours, it would be the biggest majority of my stress, right? 

Wrong.

The hardest part of my day happens between 5 – 6 pm. This is my transition time. The magical moment where I morph from working mom into mom. In a perfect world, I would have a little bit of time to decompress from the go, go, go of my day and collect my thoughts and sanity. In a perfect world, I would have a few moments of solitude to myself to just breathe and not have to be “on” for anyone.

That would happen in a perfect world. 

Since my life as a working mom outside the home is anything far from perfect, allow me to share with you what really goes down in our home during this hour:

5:00 pm : I pick up Maddy from day care. This time can be hit or miss in the attitude department. Some days I get the sweet and happy girl who is excited to see me. Other times I get the two-horned devil who screams, whines and cries because she either: A. Want one more trip down the slide, B. One more sip of water at the water fountain, C. Wants to play on the classroom computer or D. Refuses to leave, period.

Right from the get-go, I’m in full blown WTF mode. Didn’t I just leave this kind of anxiety and drama at work?

After finally managing to get Satan Maddy in the car, I immediately get bombarded with:

·         “Momma, I want to listen to a song.”

·         “Noooooo! I don’t want that for dinner!!!” followed with crying and gnashing of teeth

·         “Momma, can I have a snack when we get home?”

·         “Momma, can we stop for donuts?”

·         “Momma, can you turn up the song?”

·         “Momma, can we go to Chick-fil-A?”

·         “Momma, can I play outside when we get home?”

·         “Momma, are we washing my hair tonight?”

·         “Momma, I want to blow bubbles when we get home.”

·         “Momma, can I play with my bat when we get home?”

·         “Momma, I need a napkin for my nose!”

·         “Momma, can you drive faster like daddy?”

·         “Momma, why do you drive so slowly?”

·         “Momma, can I have a popsicle?”

·         “Momma, what are we doing this weekend?”

And we’re not even halfway home. 

By the time we do get home, it’s a whole new whirlwind of challenges. Maddy is crying and whining because she doesn’t want what’s being cooked for dinner. Michael and I are trying to talk about our day and discuss any problems that need to be fixed or settle any issues that have popped up during the day. Maddy is clamoring for a snack. The dog is begging to be let out. Maddy is begging to watch an episode of Curious George…

You get the point. It’s a lot of mind-numbing, drive you crazy and make you want to drink all the wine kind of shit. 

But it’s also my life. It’s the life I chose and agreed to when I made the choice to have a child. I agreed to crazy, chaotic and demanding. In the good and amazing that comes with having children comes the hard and frustrating times as well. I knew when I was pregnant that my life would no longer be my own and that all of my wants and needs would get put on the back burner. My brain knew this, but it has taken some time for my heart to catch up, too. Are there days when I miss coming home to an empty and quiet house? Yes. Do I sometimes long for the days when I could simply fall on the sofa, relax and not have to worry about anyone but myself? Absolutely. 

But then we finally sit down to dinner and I look at the faces I love around our table and I know that for all of the hardships that is my witching hour, it is so worth it. In reality, the hardest hour for me as a working mom is the same hour that leads me to my peaceful ending of the day – my family. 

I ask my daughter, “Maddy, what are we saying cheers to tonight?” and she happily replies, “Our family!!!” with the biggest smile ever as we raise our glasses and I know that for moments like this, I’ll take the hard hour anytime. 

What is the hardest hour of your day? How do you push through it and make it work?