Non working mom’s guilt

It’s a dilemma that comes up only once or twice a year, around the time certain conferences are scheduled, or I have a psuedo-business meeting. It’s the dreaded feeling of guilt, but of the non working mom kind. Like, the kind that says, do I really need to spend $300 to attend a conference for no other reason than it provides me a good excuse to get out of the house and interact with other like-minded women?

Yes, I do need that. But the other, Jewish-guilt ridden part of me feels badly that my son has to miss camp class and a swimming lesson tomorrow because I don’t want my part-time sitter to drag him around town.  Or that my IRL friends are making play dates and movie dates and are wondering why I can’t join.

To escape from my household routine for only a mere 24 hours now seems like trying to arrange a ride on the space shuttle. When I was working, it wasn’t so logistically challenging or gut wrenching to leave. It was the norm. One-and-a-half years later, and my three-year-old keeps asking me where I’ll be tomorrow (a meeting.) Or why we needed to run to Fed Ex Office late yesterday to pick up stickers for “my party.” (This one was harder to explain.)

I know come Saturday, when I’m exhausted from parties and adult chatter and I have to entertain my child at ungodly morning hours these feelings will all be but a blip on my non-working radar. But right now I’m just feeling the pain of all moms. Guilt.