How I Got This Job

I’ve been a mother for 6 years now. It’s an OK gig. Like all jobs, some days it sucks, some days it’s not so bad and some days I try bribing the FedEx guy to stuff me into the back of his truck and smuggle me across the border. It’s definitely not easy. In fact, I’ve even heard it said that being a mother is the hardest job in the world. (Which isn’t true. It’s actually neurosurgery. Or playing William Shatner’s love interest.)

For my entire mothering career, I've been what they call a "stay-at-home mom". As opposed to a "goes-to-work mom".Or a "hangs out in a bar all day trying to hook up with a new baby daddy mom". As job descriptions go, I’ve always thought that SAHM was kind of a condescending title. I mean, it’s not like I’m being held captive in my house or shackled to my oven all day. It just feels that way.

But a career as a full-time mother to Sam and Jack was never in my life’s plan. I’ve worked since I was 16 years-old and my parents told me that if I wanted school clothes from The Limited instead of Kmart, I’d better stop whining and get myself a damn job. (Fashion is nothing if not a great motivator.) Out of the many, many jobs I’ve had in my life, the best one was probably working for Warner Bros. Pictures. The worst one was definitely being the “Oil and Vinegar Midshipman” at the Port of Subs sandwich shop. There’s just no way you can say “Care for a little oil on your ham today, sailor?” and sound cool. Trust me.

And so, when I got pregnant, I just assumed I’d return to my job as a copywriter at an advertising agency and put the baby in daycare. That way, my life wouldn’t change too much. It was all planned out, man. I’d write TV commercials, take naps at my desk and go out for margarita lunches with my co-workers during the day, then at night come home and play with my baby until it was time for “House” to come on.

Yeah. That would have been nice.

The ad agency laid me off when I was five months pregnant. This was completely unexpected because just two months prior, the agency’s president had appeared on “The Today Show” boasting about the company’s “family friendly” policy of encouraging new mothers to bring their babies to the office. Apparently, she meant babies who were no longer inside their mothers’ tummies. But, I guess it’s understandable. Chubby, screaming infants make for better photo-ops than chubby, screaming copywriters any day. Especially ones who’ve missed their naps and margarita lunches.

At first I didn’t accept my fate and tried to find a job at another agency. Of course, it was a bit of a shock to interviewers when I waddled into the room with the opening line of “What? You were expecting a virgin?”, so, not surprisingly, everyone I met with said I “just wasn’t the right fit”. Well, of course I wasn’t. I was a hormonal beached whale with swollen ankles and an ass you could watch a 70mm movie on if I happened to be wearing white pants that day. I didn’t even fit in my king-sized bed, much less a desk chair writing jingles for The Scooter Store.

And so I gave in and decided to make my baby my full-time job. Just minutes after Sam was born, I held him tightly in my arms and softly whispered in his perfect, tiny ear that nothing in the world would make me happier than staying home with him all day.

And then the meds wore off.