Pictured above is the V-Tech “laptop” that my oldest daughter used to bring with her when she’d join me at the newspaper while I was working on deadline. Trips to newspaper offices were part of her entire life, almost from the moment she was born. I pursued a journalism degree at a community college, beginning when she was four months old. My first role at the college newspaper was as a features writer. Two semesters later, I would serve as editor in chief.
In a time of National Taking Children to Work Day, as a single mother, there were times when taking my children to work wasn’t a novelty, but a necessity.
All three of my daughters have never not known a mother who worked outside the home. This post is a bit stream of consciousness, as I consider what they must have thought, growing up with me as their mother.
I remember in college bringing Phoenix to the editorial offices in her car seat. While I tapped away at my Macintosh, formatting the pages, she’d watch the staffers roam around the room, aqua felt tip markers and pieces of paper in hand. Other students were bent over light boards, cutting color with X-Acto® blades and red acetate. Occasionally, someone would emerge from the dark room, strips of negatives in hand, music blaring from behind them (the photographers always played their music loudly).
As I entered the workforce, the girls followed.
At one newspaper, when I worked in the creative services department, the two older girls would sleep on sofa cushions, while their baby sister slept in a Graco® Pack-N-Play portable playpen. I’d design pages and advertisements sometimes late into the night and early morning. If working on a special section, it wasn’t unusual for me to be at the paper until three o’clock in the morning. It was on these occasions that the sports writers, who had been filing their stories after getting back to the newsroom from covering games that had ended anywhere between 10:00 p.m. to midnight, would help transport my sleeping children to my car when I was finished working.
What must my daughters had thought? …to fall asleep in one place and awake in their own beds?
We all worked as a team. In fact, I’d refer to us as Team Cantrell. Each girl knew that they were expected to contribute to the successful running of our home at an age-appropriate level. Our chores were done collectively, and we celebrated together, too. I also remember telling each of them that my job as a parent was to teach them to live without me — to learn how to operate successfully as an adult.
My career was an extension of who I was. My daughters were partners in that.
• I hope that they learned through observation that the best jobs are an expression of one’s unique skills and talents.
• I hope they learned that honoring obligations is how we honor ourselves.
• I hope they learned that making things happen requires teamwork and sacrifice.
Now that they’re adults, I get to watch them develop their own careers. Each of them is dedicated, knowledgeable and focused on using their job as a way to contribute to this world and society.
When I see young parents now, I want to tell them that the heavy lifting is worth it. Parenting is exhausting. It’s a grinding, relentless series of tedious Sisyphean tasks. Parents are seldom thanked or recognized for the sacrifices they make. As a parent in the process of raising children, it can be difficult to know if what you’re doing has any impact.
My personal experience is that kids pay attention to their parents’ behavior and model it.
While I may have been paid a salary to work in the publishing business, it’s my opinion that my real work has always been to be their mother.
P.S. Every Sunday, I publish a free weekly newsletter called the 3 Minute Reset, which includes life lessons, life hacks and treats. To subscribe, click here.
