I recall a time I felt the entire pressure of being a working mom.
I felt judged. I was already late to the parent meeting. I know they heard my heels clicking as fast as they could down the hall. I got myself together, clutched my purse and controlled my breathing. I found a seat in the front. There were no chairs in the back that would save me the embarrassing feeling of being late.
Most of the moms were in sweats, so they may have just thought I was fashionably late. But no, my fancy ensemble was because I was a career mom. What they didn’t know is I had damn near killed myself to get to this meeting. I was on the highway screaming, “Move b—–, get out the way” In my best Ludacris impersonation.
I had made a promise to attend these meetings to show that I was more than concerned and all about my daughter’s progression and education. These meetings though were unrealistic to my schedule. Most of the meetings for working parents were unrealistic. I called my son’s dad to let him know that I was at Heaven’s school and that he could meet me in the parking lot to drop LJ off. He worked third shift and needed to get to work. The meeting was still going on and by now I had warmed up and was giving my input. The parents were actually enjoying what I was suggesting. Partly because they trusted my judgment. I just looked the part of a professional, so it wasn’t hard convincing people that I knew what was best. The meeting was getting good. Heaven was off to the side playing with her classmates.
Jeremey called and said he was outside with little Jay. I had to excuse myself and go get my baby. At the time LJ was about 5 months. When I came back of course people were ranting and raving about how adorable he was. Even mentioning that I didn’t even look like I had a baby that small, let alone 2. I was holding LJ and trying to still participate in the meeting. That was until he realized the breast he adored were concealed with a sweater that went all the way to my neck. Why the hell did I wear a damn turtleneck with this suit? I asked myself. He started tugging and twisting his body so that he could get to the milkies. I looked down at his baby bag to see if there was a bottle, but no. I looked down and his face looked distressed and then came that cry.
If give me the damn milk was a person, Jeremey was him. I gave in to avoid the cry. A little breast never hurt anyone. I was sure they had all seen one before. I discreetly lifted up my shirt, stuck LJ in and under my shirt. I then closed my blazer and went on taking. LJ didn’t like the blazer so he took it off his head and made sure my breast was exposed. Then he had the nerve to look at me. By this time I was like F— it. I was exhausted. I just fed him and finished the meeting. When the meeting was over, I had to gather his car seat, baby bag and my purse. I had to bargain and beg with Heaven to stop playing with her friends so that we could go home. I held her hand, carried LJ in his car seat and walked across the long parking lot. Feeling exhausted from work and parent life this day, I knew it would be some challenging days ahead of us.
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