Frustration and The Fifties

I just found out I won’t be able to take my daughter to her first ballet exam and I cannot hold back the tears. It might sound trivial, but to me it’s an important milestone…this will lead to her first certificate from the Royal Academy of Dance, the first of many others I hope. She will be excited (even though their teacher is not calling it an exam, but a special visit by an English lady) and I am even more excited than her. In fact, this morning I woke up in a sweat after dreaming that I had forgotten to put her hair up in a bun and she could not sit the exam.

The reason I will have to miss it is because I will have to work. I am sure the mothers out there will understand me when I say that this is one of those moments I curse feminism and the freedom it gave us to work and have our own career. Wouldn’t it be easier if we had never been given a choice? Just think about it…it would mean that we could do away with any guilt feelings because our one and only job would be that of taking care of our family. Sure, it would also mean frustration and injustice, but right now I wish I was a fifties mother who could spend all her day seeing to the needs of her little one.



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  1. Is your husband taking her? Is there anyway i can help perhaps?

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