But I have a job!

When I was a new mom, I joined that elite list of women who were the Working Moms.  Wake up at all hours of the night, go to work hoping that the formula stain won't show on your blouse, do the daycare run-around, and fall into bed with the knowledge that you and your husband were providing the best education possible for your kids.  Plus the money was so nice we barely paid attention and bought whatever we wanted as long as the bank account was in the positive (usually).

When my child number two was born, I found myself in the enviable position of being a Stay-at-Home Mom.  On my meager teacher's salary, we couldn't afford to pay for my gas and clothes plus daycare for two kids.  My husband began his own business and lost his benefits, so I went on public assistance for a short time to help out because we still couldn't afford daycare on what I'd be able to make.  With my husband working every single waking hour to bring his business to be able to pay bills, he was unavailable to watch an infant and toddler.  That job was now mine exclusively.

For eight long years I stayed home.  It wasn't peaches and cream.  There were weeks and months of Ramen Noodles, shopping at the dollar store, clipping coupons, and making a $4 chicken stretch to feed us for days at a time.  But the mortgage got paid with negotiation, most of the bills got paid or were postponed, and our credit scores only took a small hit.  My husband's company began to do reasonably well and our debt from his consulting days began to head in the right direction again.

When I began the Stay-at-Home Mom journey, I was a lazy lump.  (Who am I kidding?  I still am!)  Martha Stewart, I'm not.  I never was.  But the depression after having a baby and quitting a job hit me more emotionally than I expected.  I fully understood the lack of purpose someone going into retirement felt.  Granted, I had my kids and the day-to-day busy-ness of books, playing, diapers, and cooking three meals a day filling my time.  It took a year before I came to terms with my position.  I had become that check box on the form where it says Homemaker, Unemployed, Housewife.  A college educated woman who had been told all her life not to rely on a man to pay the bills had become the Stay-at-Home Mom.

As the kids grew and went off to school, I filled my days with food shopping.  I carted my grandparents around in my mid-bulk transport and became their taxi as well.  I volunteered at the kids' school, but somehow avoided becoming a fully-fledged PTO person.  And best of all, I volunteered in Scouting.

My kids define who I've become.  I'm their Mom when I walk into their classrooms and their Scout Leader.  My interests are their interests and my day is their day.

Now, they're off to school and I'm looking to join the Working Mother group again.  My house is no cleaner, but it may as well be just as messy while I'm working.

How do you add onto a resume' that is blank for years of all that work I did?  At first I had no idea how to fill in those gaps.  You can't quantify a salary in diapers, cookies and milk, and trips to the park.  There is no doubt in my mind those years were worth it to me, but now I'm left in the limbo of being barely more experienced at a job than a new college graduate.  I also made poor decisions before graduating from college in addition to that gaping hole in my resume' and am now paying the price for only being qualified for lower paying jobs, a slim fraction of my husband's earning potential.  Yet I am able to fill those empty blocks with the little jobs I did while volunteering: event planner, volunteer recruitment, record keeping, correspondence, customer service, program coordinator, education implementation...

All those years, doing the jobs that everyone else got paid for.  Because hell yes, I worked.  I was just never gainfully employed.