A panegyric to working moms

Cristina, Bella and Evan’s mom, is building a website for a fashion consulting/personal shopper business that will give her an opportunity to use her theatrical costuming skills while working from home, and I am honored to be her photographer. They recently moved to their current house, which is smaller than their last one, so they are still sorting and down-sizing, and it took time to arrange a kind of make-shift photographic studio on this gloomy gray day, with all the house lamps and full-spectrum lights we could bring into the room stacked on unpacked boxes and furniture pushed to the edges of the room. 

Seth flew home last night from his current gig in Las Vegas, so he was tired and trying to nap; Bella was out of school for spring break and wanting to do a craft project; and Evan is fighting a cold and cutting teeth, constantly begging to nurse. I was filled with admiration for Cristina’s ability, in the midst of everyone’s demands, to maintain focus, to pose, to change into a variety of outfits for herself and her “client,” and to create the images she wants. She radiates confidence, efficiency, and professionalism with an edgy vibe that appeals to women who can afford such services. I think she’s amazing, and I’ve left her with some images I hope will communicate what she wants to say, but my favorite image of the day is this one, with little Evan’s plaintive hands creeping up into the frame.

How I do admire the mothers of all our grandchildren! As a working mom all my life, I was often torn between Seth’s needs and the demands of my job. I graded papers while nursing him, graded papers in the car while he studied judo and aikido, graded papers in the bleachers while he played soccer or baseball, graded papers at his band concerts. I would make a quick dash from the classroom or a committee meeting to a conference with one of his teachers and fight traffic to get back in time for the next class; if he was sick, I had to make up material my classes missed; and as all working mothers know, there are days when your child needs you, and you just want to stay home with him instead of going to another meeting full of colleagues strutting and preening for each other over issues you find trivial and pointless. 

I see Cristina coping with these conflicts in ways I never imagined, and I am gobsmacked by her, and by all the working moms who struggle to meet everyone’s needs and often neglect even to notice their own. Little Evan, on the floor of our makeshift studio, is the Extra for today.