The Front Porch: Parenthood is investment in future

When I was young I had many dreams. I wanted to travel the world, live in a New York City penthouse and be an award-winning author. But most of all I wanted to be a mother.

Seventeen years ago when my first child nestled into my arms those other dreams paled in comparison. I was a mother. With frugal forethought my husband and I planned for me to be able to stay home with my son that first year. By the time I was ready to return to work another child was on the way, and then another and another.

Instead of writing a novel I spent my days tracing ABCs. I volunteered in preschool and kindergarten classrooms, instead of returning to college like I’d planned. Before I knew it 15 years had passed.

During those years I kept my skills current by writing for nonprofits, and I took classes to stay proficient. I created networks by becoming involved in my kids’ schools, and volunteering in civic organizations. So when my youngest started kindergarten I felt ready to re-enter the work force.

However, it proved to be a bumpy transition for all of us. In my haste to update my resume, I took on too many assignments for too many publications. In addition, I felt compelled to prove I could still bake 12 dozen cookies for the class party, have dinner the table by 6 o’clock, and turn in articles not just on deadline, but early. Struggles familiar to every mother in the workplace.

It took a year before the dust settled, and I felt like I had my feet on the ground. And while I felt confident that I could do it all, I wondered: Could I do it all well? And why did I feel so obligated to try?

Recently, I met a former editor for coffee. The subject of musical preferences came up. I’d spent so many years keeping up with what my kids were listening to, I wasn’t sure what I liked anymore. I said, “You have to realize I’ve lost the past 15 years.” That statement haunted me. Had I really lost those years?

A thread at The Spokesman-Review blog Huckleberries Online helped me answer that question. The topic was an article about the Idaho House of Representatives’ Family Task Force. The headline read, “Lawmakers look for ways to keep moms at home to strengthen families.”

A frequent commenter wrote, “As it is, stay-at-home parents – especially stay-at-home moms – have comparatively little economic or social power. You limit your scope of influence when you stay home and care for children.” Another poster said, “What employer is going to hire someone whose resume only has ‘18-year parent’ ” on it?”

Wow. All those years I spent caring for my children, working in their schools, and networking with other parents and civic organizations, had apparently “limited my scope of influence.” Evidently, no one told my editors not to give me assignments because my resume included 15 years as a stay-at-home parent.

I realize not every parent is as fortunate to be able to make the kind of choice I did, and not every parent wants to. I don’t know if it’s the government’s role to make it easier for parents to stay home, nor am I convinced a task force should define what a family is. What I do know is this: I may never travel the world or win a Pulitzer, but together my husband and I created four healthy, intelligent, capable young men. Who knows? There may be a world traveler or an award-winning author among them.

My scope of influence may be limited and my economic power negligible, but power and influence are poor substitutes for my memories of laughing babies, squealing toddlers and eager students. I haven’t lost 15 years; I’ve invested them. And I’m only beginning to see the dividends.