working mothers' lunch

Nine mothers who work together had lunch today, ostensibly for one hour but no one could drag herself away that soon. It was such a good conversation, such good support and camaraderie, that I'm back at my desk feeling wistful and resentful and tearful and hopeful - everything mixed together. This lunch messed up my "working mom" strategy (having a strategy doesn't mean you necessarily follow it all the time), which is: When at work, don't think about home. When at home, don't think about work. I thought I was pretty much at peace with my "work-life balance". And no one has a perfect balance. Some of us are reading the book, Mommy Wars, and what's clear in that essay collection is that no one has it quite right. Even if they say they do, or others think they do, they don't. At least that's my take on it. So I'm envious without knowing who to envy. And I'm longing for something that may not exist. Something got stirred up today and it leaves me embarrassingly at a loss. I don't even know what to write here. It reminds me of being about 14 again, when "embarrassed" and "confused" were the two words that could describe me constantly.

My sweet daughter had a fright last night when she caught her leg in the bars of the crib. I think she must have fallen or writhed around, because it was actually kind of tricky to get her leg out. There's a big red scrape/bruise there this morning. When David and I responded to her screams, we found her lying down parallel to the side of the crib, with her leg through one of the spaces, kind of a 45 degree angle. I got there first and tried to get the leg out quickly but I felt like I had to bend it unreasonably. I did okay, but thought later it might have been easier to move her torso first and then slide the leg out - David probably would have thought to do that. Oh well. She was right as rain in a minute or less, even smiling, and could put weight on the leg. But the image of her lying there, screaming and actually shaking, is burned in my mind.