Barefoot

I did something slightly nutty at work a few months ago. I agreed to do some work on the side as a favor to a doctor. One of my colleagues has been doing some great work recently, with a few publications and a lot of recognition and I wanted a piece of it as well. So when an enthusiastic doctor with a great project came along in need of help, I jumped on board. And when my managers didn't want to approve the project, I agreed to do it anyway, on the weekends.

Then, one weekend, I spent every hour of my son's nap time and few more in the evening working on this project in a desperate attempt to meet a Monday deadline.  By Sunday afternoon, my house was a wreck, I hadn't worked out, I hadn't finished the project, and I had an enormous to-do list that I hadn't even started yet hanging over my head.  "Wow, I can sure tell a difference on the weeks I don't clean," I said (passive-aggressively) to my husband.  Ever naive he responded, "It looks the same to me." Wrong answer. "I need a workout and I need to talk to Abbie," I said and grabbed my phone on the way out the door.

I explained the situation to her and in the process realized that it made no sense at all for me to cut back on my paid-time at work in order to spend more time with my child and then take on additional projects that had me working overtime on the weekends.  "What was I thinking?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said. "I know it isn't the money that drives you.  There is a word for what's motivating you, but I can't put my finger on it."
"I can't either, but it doesn't matter.  What matters is how do I get myself out of this without looking awful for agreeing to do something and not following through?"
So we came up with a speech and a few answers so I was ready in case the doctor thought I wanted to negotiate.  I headed home a much calmer woman than I had left.

On Monday, I rushed in to work for an early morning meeting, leaving Vince and Evan munching breakfast in their pajamas.  And as I expected, the doctor called. He had found some money to pay for my time, but I was ready with an answer, "I'm not really motivated by money. I don't work 100% time because I need to spend time with my son. I was motivated by the project, because I believe in it and I think it can help patients, but I can't do it. But I can help transition it to someone who has more time available to devote. I am thrilled you have funding for that. I'll work to make the transition as smooth as possible." He was gracious and understanding. He has a son the same age as mine and he missed the birth because he was working, he said he had paid a high price and learned the importance of family time the hard way.

On the way to pick up Evan after work, I called Abbie to report the good news.  While talking to her, I realized something else.  "It's true I wanted to help people, and I do believe in his project, but I think what really motivated me is that I wanted to be important." "That's it!" she said. "That's what I was thinking yesterday, but didn't know how to say." We hung up and I headed to the daycare playground.

"Mama!"
"Evan, where is your coat? Where are your shoes?"
Evan pedaled happily over to me on his little tricycle as his teacher rushed up to get to me first, "This is how your husband brought him in," she said. "No coat, no shoes." It was 40 degrees outside.  One of the little girls was crying she was so cold.  Evan was totally unfazed and happy as could be.  I was simultaneously appalled and yet somehow relieved. I am important. My son needs me. It was the best confirmation I could have I made the right decision for me and for our family.