A couple of months ago I was at lunch with my coworkers, talking through yet another random and pointless topic that makes those outings uniquely fun and memorable. Somehow the subject of kids or babysitters or something came up that led me to mention my nanny/wife and how much I love and rely on her.
I made a joke (not joke) about having to drive off a cliff if she ever left us, and they chuckled and awkwardly trailed off. No one had anything to add or share. And I realized it.
I was the only person on my entire team who was paying to be there.
Everyone in my department was either childless or had a spouse at home with their kids. Some of them have spouses with side hustles, but no one else considered themselves the primary caregiver who was also responsible for finding the childcare or other homemaking service work while they were working.
They all got paid to be there. And other than the gas they might use to drive into work on non-remote days, they were not spending any money or logistical organizing time to come in.
Every hour that I was coming into the office, I was getting paid, too. But I was paying to be there.
And it felt unfair. Unlike the men with wives at home or the childless employees, I have this childcare tax taking a haircut right off my paycheck. (Don’t get me wrong. I love my nanny and she’s worth every penny AND MORE. I love that my kids get an additional adult in their lives who loves and teaches them. That’s not what I mean.)
I felt like because I was a mom, I was running the race hitched to a trailer that no one else had to pull. And you know what sucked? I found myself nodding along with that patriarchy anthem. I, too, would like a demure stay-at-home wife who would take care of my kids and cook my dinners and do my laundry and grocery shopping for free. Maybe centuries of powerful white men were onto something, here.
{Amy Poehler says every mom needs a wife.}
Then I felt ashamed at my privilege and entitlement. I am so incredibly lucky to have a skill set, a supportive husband, a job, and a paycheck lucrative enough to make the math of childcare make sense. There are a lot of women who would happily pay a nanny-tax if it came with a good job that could afford it. For many women, the jobs available to them wouldn’t significantly cover the costs of childcare, or reasonable childcare might not even be an option. I am grateful, truly.
{RBG said each part of her life, work and motherhood, refreshed her for the other.}
And the gratitude landed me here. Claiming my motherhood as a superpower in the workplace, rather than a handicap.
I’m a stellar employee BECAUSE I’m a mom.
I value adult conversations and real interactions in a way other employees don’t.
I work quickly and efficiently because I’m used to getting interrupted every 6 minutes.
I believe in my work, choosing it in a way that men can’t when society demands they have to show up.
I am literally paying someone so that I can come here, be here, work here.
