Motherhood and Apple Pie Charts

I went back to work about a month ago after more than twelve years of full-time parenting. It has been a little strange, to say the least, to let go of my mommy persona for a few hours everyday. But I have to admit it has also been liberating - to actually be in a situation where you feel that you largely control the outcome. Where toddlerhood and pre-teen angst don't collide with variables such as hunger, tiredness, exam anxiety, teacher trouble and homework overload.
I am happy with my new job description - a content development role in a PR firm - and am looking forward to making a difference. I am usually home shortly after the girls return at 4:30 pm although A. is back by lunchtime. Nagamma, the maid, is there for him till I get back: changing and feeding him, taking him to the playground and trying to get him started with the basics of conversational Kannada. A. seems to have adapted to the situation as have the older ones and the whole thing is working out well thanks to the support crew of Nagamma, Ramji (the cook) and Ravi (the driver).
But still I thought that maternal guilt would strike sooner or later. That all-too-familiar feeling that has plagued me from time to time over the years: for not breastfeeding long enough; for breastfeeding too long; for clipping V.'s nails too short when she was an infant causing her to bawl in pain; for forgetting to show up in D's class for a Halloween party that I had signed up for....the list of my parental lapses is long if non-discriminating. I spread the wealth of my failings as a parent pretty equally among all three of my kids.
So I was surprised when guilt didn't make an appearance this time around or at least not a noticeable one. Maybe Michelle Obama had something when she talked about keeping her family happier by taking care of her needs first. Motherhood doesn't always have to be about putting yourself last; about eating the burnt pieces of toast so that the rest of the family can have the good slices.
Having said that, I would never ever consider the years I stayed home with the kids as my share of burnt toast. That was precious time spent with some incredible individuals who taught me some valuable life lessons. A few of these are: 1) Don't sweat the small stuff: the world does not depend on your unfailing ability to find matching socks every morning; 2) Some kids are just designed to help candy makers and dentists rake in profits; accept that and move on; 3) Develop a healthy relationship with the walls in your house as you may find that you spend a lot of time talking to them when you think you're actually talking to your kids.
In all seriousness, though, I love these guys and I think that the biggest lesson I've learnt recently is to appreciate each one of them for who he or she is.
If we're talking about motherhood, it's hard not to mention my mother and others in her generation who handled the whole maternal act with such grace and aplomb. Who perhaps had fewer options outside the home than women in my generation do but who did such an outstanding job inside it that it hardly matters in the end. Definitely no room for guilt here.