Ethel said her first actual word over the weekend. She pointed at Lucy’s sippy cup and uttered “aab.” I should have been thrilled. But I wasn’t. It felt like I got punched in the gut. You see, “aab” is Farsi for “water.” But I don’t speak Farsi, my sitter does.

It’s guess it’s part of the suitcase-worth of guilt I drag around with me each day. It was a really hard decision to make to go back to work, and one that I didn’t take lightly. I did was right for me and my family. I truly believe that I am a better wife and happier mom because of my career. I mean, I LOVE my job. Every day, I have the opportunity to do exactly what I am best at–while supporting a cause that I believe in with all of my heart.  

But once in a while, a moment will sneak up on me like this. One that breaks my heart a little. I can’t help but feel a bit territorial. First words are for mommies, not sitters. And it reminds me, again, what I’ve given up for my career.

I have a fantastic sitter, who loves my girls as if they were her own. To be totally honest, I really am so happy that my girls are leaning English and some Farsi at the same time–especially while it’s so easy for them to learn. Lucy often times asking for “shir” instead of “milk.” I know that I asked her to teach them. But for some reason, it still stings.

I was recently interviewed by OC Family magazine (see it here on page 82) about being a working mom. My pull-quote was “Don’t worry about home when you are at work, and don’t worry about work when you are at home.”

Sounds like I need a dose of my own medicine.

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