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Community Corner

Lynn Hudoba: Briefcase Full of Blues

A special needs mom contemplates rejoining the work force after a seven-year hiatus.

As we embark on this New Year, I’m not making any resolutions per se. For me, defining any goal as a “resolution” and linking it with a Jan. 1 start date seems to guarantee failure.

Instead, I will just say that it sure would be nice to be able to put on a swimsuit when I go to Florida in about eight weeks without bursting into tears. Or making anyone else around me burst into tears. Or make the seams of my swimsuit burst into tears. Heteronym humor, y’all!

Also? I need to get one of those things where you do stuff and then someone gives you some money for doing it … what is that called? A jah. A jaaaaah. I can’t even say it. Or apparently even type it.

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Other than a few months when my daughter was an infant, this will be my first foray into working motherhood. I guess this means that I’ll now have to pay attention to those ubiquitous articles about Super Moms who kill themselves trying to do it all.

And as if on cue, I just came across Time magazine’s list of “Top 10 New Findings in Parenting”, with #1 being “trying to be a supermom is a recipe for disaster." Really? New? That finding is about as new as Burt Reynolds’ hairpiece. And about as fresh as using Burt Reynolds as a pop culture reference.

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Granted, the bar was pretty low to reach number one, considering the competition included other newsflashes like you should eat healthy during pregnancy (#7) and breastfeeding is good (#3). Since this is ostensibly a “parenting” list and not a “mothering” list, there’s a little something in there for daddies as well. Namely, that it’s OK to have sex with your mate while she’s preggers (#5), and as a matter of fact you’d better get it while you can because your testosterone is about to plummet when you become a father (#10).

Anyway, I’m jumping the gun reading stuff like this and getting all excited about being depressed when I haven’t even started seriously looking for a job yet. I’m told that things have changed a bit since I last interviewed for a new job back in the late 1900s. Prospective employers can now Google your name and see what information cyberspace coughs up about you.

When they search on my name, the first thing that will come up is my blog about raising a child with autism. And all of my Patch articles about raising a child with autism. And a bunch of other stuff about how I have a child with autism. Oh, God.

OPEN LETTER TO ANY PROSPECTIVE EMPLOYERS WHOSE GOOGLE SEARCH OF MY NAME BROUGHT THEM TO THIS ARTICLE:

Hey. How you doin’? So you found your way to some of that freelance writing stuff that I mention on my resume to fluff up the seven years since I’ve had a full-time gig.

I write about autism a lot because, yeah, I got a daughter on the spectrum. But you really shouldn’t discriminate against me because of that. It has taught me a lot about patience, multi-tasking, and handling stress. Which, if I am to believe Time magazine, I’m going to be like centupling if you give me this job.

I hope that you will instead judge me on my vast skill set and pre-motherhood work experience. Although my post-motherhood work experience has made me fluent in all kinds of behavior therapies, which would serve me well should the job involve managing anyone from the Millennial Generation. I understand that they also like to be positively reinforced every time they do something good or make a boom-boom in the potty.

See you at the interview!

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I’m doomed. The Time article goes on to say that, in general, working mothers are less depressed than stay-at-home moms. So I should want to get a job. But then they say that I’ll be depressed because I can’t do it all. Is there any scenario under which I could actually be happy? What’s that? You say, “working mothers who think they can perfectly and harmoniously balance work and home life are at greater risk for depression than women who know there's no chance.”

Oh, is that all? I totally know that there is absolutely no chance of me being a working mother who’s successful at both the work and home fronts. Whew. I feel so much better now.

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