A cat stuck in a tree is my spirit animal....

Today the promotion I've been working towards for the past year came through. There was no email or department memo, just some updates to my personnel file and now I can add "Supervisor" to my email signature. Oddly enough my first emotion wasn't excitement or happiness but mostly terror. That is something that I really wasn't expecting. I know climbing the corporate ladder is generally associated with money hungry douchebags and sellouts. I'd like to think I'm neither. I'd like to think that the personal fulfillment I get from a job well done and the extra hours I put in will be worth it when I can see our boys graduate from college (hopefully not saddled with a boat ton of student loans).


But then the doubt and crap and fear started creeping in to my beautifully orchestrated 5 year plan.

 "What if you're really shitty at this?"
 " There's nothing worse than a crap manager."
 " Am I destined for 30 years of followingupsynergizingdelegatingbuzzwording"
 " Myers-Briggs says my personality type isn't best suited for this."

But the biggest one was:

"Did I just sell a little more of my kids' childhood?"

I'm lucky to work for a place that recognizes the importance of a work life balance, and  a manager that really does. That doesn't necessarily equate to a 50/50 split though, particularly in the growing pains of a new position. For all the MSN articles that I read about how to better balance a family and a career and despite every life-hack I try to adequately manage both, truth is I still feel guilty as hell for being a working Mom.

From what I've gathered though is that most Mothers feel guilty as hell. It's the way we're wired. If something anywhere in the world is wrong, surely we are responsible. And surely all the other types of Moms are doing better job. As much as I tried to channel my inner JC Wyatt and remind myself that I can have it all I drove home riddled with doubt the ugly cry damn broke.

But when I got home three things happened, I got a text from my Mom...the ULTIMATE in AMAZING working Mothers that said "You are capable and brilliant, you can do this!". Then my two sons met me at the door and seeing that I had been crying, stood and just hugged me, good hugs, long hugs, hugs that affirm that if nothing else I'm raising men that have compassion and are caring.

The final thing though was the neighbor's cat stuck in our Magnolia tree. We had gone outside to eat on the deck so that I could unload all of my fear and doubt and UGH on Doc. True to form, he just sat and listened, nodded and let me let out all of my shit. Before we could talk any more about the day we heard a meow. Small at first but increasing in volume and frequency,  we moved around and found it belonged to our neighbor's cat that had been scared shitless up our Magnolia tree. Now I know that cats stuck in trees eventually come back down on their own accord but seeing the poor thing trembling and scared I couldn't help but to identify it. Something big had scared her to climb up, and now she was looking around and meowing "WTF do I do now?". I then watched my husband spend the next 20 minutes with a flashlight, laser pointer and low soothing words and helped to talk the cat out of the tree. As incredibly lame as it sounds, it reminded me of how many times in the past 19 years he's helped talk me out of my tree.

We all have to face big scary things in life. Things we ask for, things we don't, things we feel like we're ready for and things we're not. It's the people that love us that get us through the big stuff. The ones that remind you of all the good parts of you, when all you seem to be able to remember are the weak ones. The ones that hold you and remind you of how loved you are (and that the best way to cheer up is to go listen to some Bowie-Thanks Rage). Finally, the ones that will just sit and listen to all of your fears and soothe you back down when you've climbed up a tree.