Once upon a time tiny tots languished in playpens while moms tried the latest casserole recipes and caught up on the soaps. Babies sat in high chairs without five point harnesses and chewed on stale cookies while mom did the dishes and chatted on the phone with the neighbor. But these days are long gone. We are officially in the era of the “professional mom.”

Today being a stay-at-home mom is more of a career option than a career opt-out. More and more at home mothers not only have their bachelor’s degrees, but advanced degrees as well. Coming from the world of academia and the tyranny of perfection many young women face at work and school, it is only natural that they approach parenting as a full-time job at which they must excel.

If motherhood is the career, then suburbia is the work place.

As a child I did not know many kids with a full-time stay-at-home parent because the lack of job choice in such an isolated part of the country necessitated that both parents work in order to have the income needed to raise a family. It wasn’t until I had my first child just two short months after moving to the DC area suburbs that I realized how many working age adults are home during the day in some communities. Four and a half years later I continue to be floored that there is enough traffic at 1:30 in the afternoon on a Tuesday that I sometimes can’t make my left turn until the second cycle of green lights. If I don’t get to the grocery store before 10:00 a.m. on any given week day, I will have to stand in line at the checkout long enough for my two year old to start to fuss.

So what is a professional mom?

The new ones are easy to pick out in the crowd because they’re usually carrying at least one training manual. In the stores you’ll see them with a bargain purchasing guide of some sort, at the park they’ll be jostling the $300 stroller with one leg while balancing a Dr. Sears something on the other, and by the time they’re waiting outside the classroom for pre-school pick up, they’ve got a “Happiest” book sticking out of their over-sized purses.

I know these women well because I’m one of them. I’m the stay-at-home mother of two who likes to occasionally work my Ivy League degree into conversation just for a little reassurance that no one will get confused about who I really am. I’m the mom who is only driving a mini-van, the official vehicle of the suburban professional mom, until the kids are old enough that I can get a “real” car.

And I’m also the mom who judges the amateur moms, those who aren’t taking the job seriously enough to turn professional.

Now I know that the Mommy Wars are a disgrace to women everywhere and that we should all just learn to get along, but for many professional moms, it’s often difficult to avert my eyes and hold my tongue. My circle of friends includes a mom who has clearly maintained her amateur status (perhaps to be able to compete in the next mom Olympics?) and it has taken me four years to finally be at peace with her way of parenting. Her son is the kid who comes to soccer with no water bottle wearing shorts and flip-flops (for soccer!!!) despite the 55 degree temperature and howling wind. Does she love her child? Of course! Is she doing her best? Probably. But she isn’t taking herself seriously enough as a mom to get stressed out over the fact that on this particular day she probably should have insisted on long pants, or at the very least, some closed toe shoes. Her child is happy and running around a soccer field. Isn’t that good enough?

To the professional mom, it is clearly not enough. I’ve researched parenting techniques until I was blue in the face, even going so far as to design a flow chart before purchasing a simple car seat. Yet never once have I read what to do when I encounter someone who doesn’t parent the same way that I do, which is to say, someone who isn’t overly neurotic. An expert needs to write that book because what all moms need, no matter what type of mom they are, is the support of the other moms around them.

Someone should tell that to the new mom on the block who I recently overheard lecturing my amateur mom friend about the dangers of plastic. I watched, amused, as my friend’s eyes glazed over, her thoughts instead with her happy child running barefoot in the mulch.

When Amy isn’t fretting over what other people’s kids are doing, she is writing at Resourceful Mommy and planning Twitter parties at SiteWarmingParties.Com.

(image source: C-Monster)