Skip to main content

Hi, My Name is Ashley… And I Am… A Working Mom.

A curse of a parent? Your kids never really know how much you love them.

They don't get it. The won't. They can't.

It's okay. It's the order of the Universe:  Fish swim. Birds fly. Your kids don't know how much you love them.

They don't understand the tears you cry. They don't understand your firm manner with them. They don't understand that rules are really for their protection.

And they don't understand the sacrifices.

-Pricey vacations…vacations, at all, really
-Haircuts (mine)
-Pursuing my great love and passion, Theatre
 and...
-Matt and I staying married as long as we did…as long as we could

I recently started working 40 hrs/wk again- first time since Cedar City when I was working 2 part-time jobs.

I love my job. I do. I'm now an Assistant Manager at World Market, a company I loved as a shopper, and now as an employee on the management team.

After a couple of weeks, however, I came home and had a breakdown. The kids actually didn't see this one.

Matt was over at the apartment, and he said, "...Wanna …talk?"

I managed to eek out, with surprising rigor, "Matt, I'm not raising my kids! (sob, sob, sob, blubber, gasp)"

After a perfectly timed pause, ala Matt Neves because he's a theatrics god, he said, "Ash… you're more available to them now than you were when you were a full-time mom."

I let this register.

Then asked, "Because… now… I don't want to kill myself?" (Remember the whole mixed-orientation marriage thing I did that one time...?)

"Yep."

I couldn't help but laugh, because, y'all, for some reason the truth can really be hilarious.

All the time, my oldest will ask, "When do you work today?"

I'll tell her and, 9 times out of 10, I get an "UGH" in response.

Even my oldest child, who is, ya know, a teenager, wants me home. I'm mom. The only one she's got.

I'd rather be with you, honey. I would. You're my child. I love you in a way that consumes me. My whole body, mind, soul...being. It keeps me up at night. It gets me up in the morning. It's what drove me to upheave from Cedar City and 2 jobs to come to California to make my best attempt at making us the most cohesive family we can possibly be in this 'less-than' situation.  

But I HAVE to work. To feed you. To protect you from the elements. Don't you see? First and foremost, I have to keep you alive.  

Ada makes pouty faces. Emma doesn't seem to care. Timothy, in true Timmy fashion, has become more and more affectionate, reaching out for tangible, palpable love, to reassure him.

And the oldest, Hana, her "UGH's" are only part of her reaction to mom being a breadwinner all of the sudden. She's become my friend.

Interesting, isn't it?

My gift in this:

Embracing the moments. Moments are incredible gifts. I try to make them about peace and wisdom and laughter.

Listening.

Patience.

Just being in the same room.

But… it probably wouldn't hurt to go back on Zoloft.




Comments

  1. Fellow working mom (and Zoloft taker) here. I'm a better mom now too, even though I'm often gone. We do what we need to and it's okay :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. You are a fabulous woman and mother. Recognizing the truth in irony is a gift. I am so glad to have been blessed to cross your path. Keep going, Ash.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hon, at least your kids want to be around you when you're not working! So many parents turn into hateful, child loathing wretches when they work more than 10 hours a week, and their offspring hate it when they are home. BTW, Zoloft is a Godsend. With, or without it, you rock.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi Ashley! I'm Heather and I wanted to know if you could answer my question I have about your blog! Please email me at Lifesabanquet1(at)gmail(dot)com :-)

    ReplyDelete
  5. m yu n azm e is a lso ashlewy and i h xavew btrhe bsame story

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Counterfeit Experience of the Straight Spouse

The conversation has to continue as long as the wrong people keep bringing it up (April 2017, Ensign pg. 33).

The further I get from my experience in a mixed-orientation marriage, the more acute my understanding of how my experience, as the straight spouse, is and was marginalized.

Don't get me wrong! I'm the biggest cheerleader for the gay spouse, feeling trapped and unable to live authentically.  I'm the one banging on the other side of the closet door, begging, "Sweetheart, come on.  Stop doing this to yourself.  It's 2017 and depression or suicide is so unnecessary for THIS." 

But there are also the experiences of the men and women who are/were the straight spouse, like... Ashley 1.0.

We aren't living authentically either.

And our suffering and scars don't seem too important. You may have read about how I super duper wanted to drive my mini-van off of Cedar mountain. 

If you're just joining this conversation:  No, it is not just about sex. …

In Which I Feel Compelled to Start a Blog Because of a Club and a Unicorn...

My name is Ashley.  I was Mormon for the first 36 years of my life.

Yep, I was baptized when I was 8.  I went to BYU where I received a Bachelors in Theatre.  I married a returned missionary in the Mt. Timpanogas Temple.  We were full tithe payers.  I fulfilled several callings diligently, including serving as Primary President for 2 years.

About a year after my divorce, I was chatting with my new bishop, who I had known for several years prior to that.  He asked me, "So, Ashley, why did you and Matt get divorced?"

I replied, "Matt is a homosexual."

I just looked him in the eye after I said this and waited a few seconds while he absorbed it.

Then he asked, "Well, was there another problem as well?  Like drinking? Or gambling?"
I looked him in the eye a second time and replied, "Nope.  Just that."

He was genuinely confused.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was in a mixed-orientation marriage- a marriage between someone who is gay and someone who i…

The White Man

Let's leave this ambiguous.

Also, I'm not gonna tell you about experiences that took place with just one white man. For this, I'll make it one lumpy conceptual White Cisgender Heterosexual Conservative Male (cue the music from the 'Beef-It's What's For Dinner!' music).

In the work force, I have to deal with him. I have to play the game of diplomacy without compromising who I am. If it's mental gymnastics, it's the balance beam in heels with someone patting me on the head saying, "Gosh, I just don't know how you do that! I never could do that! But here are some pointers! Hey! Why did you do it like that?? Why aren't you listening?"

...but I just keep doing my thing.

Utah is the type of prime real estate, and certainly not the most prime, where this guy is King. Everything around him is his dominion. He is not a part of a group that is marginalized. For those of you who do not understand what I mean, I'll present you with the ext…