Stop acting like working moms are a moral failure

I need to talk about something because it has been driving me insane lately. I keep seeing these posts like “I sacrificed everything so I could raise my own babies” or “I’ll never pay someone else to raise my kids,” and my eye starts twitching. The way some people talk about working moms versus stay at home moms is so dramatic. Like calm down. No one is handing their toddler to a stranger behind a gas station and saying good luck kid. Relax. And this is coming from me, someone who is an excessive worrier and probably accidentally a helicopter mom most of the time. If I’m telling you to chill, that should say something.

There’s this weird superiority thing happening where if you aren’t physically glued to your kid twenty four, seven, then apparently you’re not “raising” them. That logic makes no sense. You’re telling me I’m the only adult on earth capable of influencing my kid in a good way. Really. Nobody else is trustworthy or patient or creative or loving. It’s such an intense and honestly unrealistic standard.

My kid goes to school (that’s what we call it in our house lol) a couple days a week and he LOVES it. He comes home with crafts, stories, counting, new little obsessions, all of it. He learns stuff I wouldn’t even think to teach him because I’m not a preschool teacher and I’m not trying to be one. His teachers are a huge part of his little world, and that is a good thing.

And none of that means I’m not raising him or not being a good mom. It just means he gets experiences that don’t revolve around me doing every single thing myself. He learns to listen to someone who isn’t mom. He builds confidence and social skills. He gets a life outside his parents and his toy basket. School is not a betrayal of motherhood.

And because I know someone is already typing a comment about “but what about the scary stuff,” let me just add this. I started working again when Arnie was four weeks old. Four. I’ll be the first to admit that it was hard. Brutal honestly. I was lucky enough to take him with me at first and he would just snooze while I worked. But obviously that couldn’t last forever. When it finally came time to call in some help, I cannot even express how nervous I was.

The first stage was a friend watching him a couple days a week. Which was still scary because we didn’t know each other very well yet. I consider us to be good friends now, but at the beginning I was a wreck dropping him off. I was convinced everything would go terribly. But of course Arnie loved her, and to this day he still melts for any girl with long blonde hair who even slightly resembles her.

Then we moved to an actual school. That one broke me. I bawled my eyes out at the thought of dropping him off with a room full of kids and teachers I didn’t know. We did all the research, talked to other parents, toured the building, met the teachers, checked the cameras they have running all day. I watched him from my phone like a hawk for weeks, fully prepared to swoop in if something felt off. And the whole time I had this fear in the back of my head. Was I sending him off to experience his first trauma. Was he going to be okay. Was I a bad mom for even trying this.

The first few days of drop off were rough. He was unsure, clingy, confused. Then he realized he gets to play all day and eat little snacks and do crafts and have fun, and now he gives me the most casual “bye bye mama” you’ve ever heard. Half the time he’s annoyed when I come to pick him up. So yeah, I understand the fear. I understand the bad stories. I’m grateful we’ve had good experiences. But “school,” does not have to be some evil thing. It has given us so many good opportunities. And yeah, it’s really freaking expensive. I’m grateful my income can cover it and not completely disappear in the process. (But also if any of our parents would like to retire and have their grand kid every week I’m 100% cool with that lol.)

Now on top of all that, school also lets me go to work and actually do my job well. And no, work is not “me time” and it’s not “a break,” I’m working. Work is harder than being home with a sidekick doing whatever I want and keeping up with chores and having dinner ready at a reasonable time. If I could magically be a trophy mom who helps fund my families goals and dreams without ever clocking in, I very quickly would take that option. Obviously. But I also enjoy working. I like producing things I’m proud of. It’s not just for him. It’s not just for me. It’s life. It’s how we grew up. My parents worked. Corbin’s parents worked. Our grandparents worked. None of this is new.

And stay at home moms are absolutely working too. I would never say they aren’t. I respect that so much, and it’s a huge blessing to have that option. I just don’t think one group is better than the other. It’s simply different. That’s it. Different circumstances, different personalities, different rhythms. Nothing more.

The whole “but bad things happen in schools” argument… please. Bad things can happen anywhere. Yes, be smart. Yes, do your research. Yes, be careful. But using the worst case scenario to shame moms who work is fear based and honestly unfair. There’s a difference between being vigilant and being paranoid.

And tbh kids who are never allowed any independence end up struggling. They don’t know how to deal with conflict or pressure. They shut down over tiny inconveniences. They never learned how to function outside their bubble. Kids need other kids. Kids need other (parent approved) adults. Kids need structure and boundaries and new environments. That’s literally how they learn to be actual people.

Motherhood is not a competition about sacrifice. It’s not about who suffers the most. None of that makes you a better mom. Your kid needs a stable mom. A present mom. A mom who isn’t drowning. And for a lot of us, that means school. That means work. That means help. That means space to breathe.

So yeah, if I ever hear you talk about how “you could never send your child off to be raised by strangers” I will probably verbally assault your ignorance and naivety. (maybe you could reword it to be something like “I made the decision to stay home because thats best for me and my children”)

Your favorite judgy prick,

Kate