That guilty feeling By Maria Bailey Guilt ... it appears at the most unlikely moments. Even if you believe you never experience the guilt associated with being a working mother, it finds its way into your life at least once. Just when you think you're finally achieving some resemblance of balance, guilt rears its nasty head into your life. I experienced it just the other day. But before I describe the events surrounding the emotion, indulge me for a minute while I justify my decision to be the mother of four preschoolers and a working woman. Don't worry -- I can do it quickly. I've had lots of practice justifying myself to stay at home moms, my bosses, my peers and my family. I'm so good at it by now, that I have it down to two sentences. "I'm not the perfect mother. I try hard though." My recent experience with working mother guilt It was a Thursday. As many working mothers do, I did one of my 3-minute-stopped at a red-light-life assessments. Quickly I mentally go through the important elements of my life and take notes on the ones that seem to be lacking my attention since the last red-light-life assessment. Exercise and diet don't count. They are always at the bottom of the list. While at the red light, I determined that I deserved a spontaneous outing with my children. Besides, it was Thursday and I'd already done 2 late nights at the office, 3 early morning breakfast meetings and missed a school lunch date. So I dropped everything, arrived home early, announced to the crew that they could remove their pajamas, put on swimsuits and we were going to the beach to play in the sand. Excitedly, clothes went flying and within minutes we were frolicking in the waves as the sun was going down. It was great fun not only for my daughters and sons, but for me too. No phones, no e-mail, just sand in the toes and happy children. I figured I'd found a way to make up at least 40 of the hours I'd been away from the home this week. I was still receiving praise as the last child kissed me good night. Friday was a great day at work. I was rejuvenated and feeling good about work and family balance. And then, it appeared ...Guilt. It came in the form of a phone call from my nanny. "I just wanted you to know that the teacher said Owen told her today that he is sometimes sad because he doesn't get to spend very much time with his mommy because she is always at work." You might as well have put a dull butter knife through my heart. It would have been less painful. And to make matters worse, the message had to be delivered by my nanny. The woman I secretly envy for having the best job in the world: taking care of my children. I quickly thought of every parenting article I had skimmed in airports for the past five years. One theme came to mind. Listen to your child. Listen to your child. Owen was trying to tell me something, even if it was through his teacher. It was up to me to decode the message. The task shouldn't be too hard for a woman who has decoded ambiguous work assignments from managers far greater in age. I carefully plotted my strategy to addressing the issue in the same way that I had developed strategic plans for my former Fortune 100 employer. I identified my market: 5-year-old son. My approach didn't require a budget. I would listen to my market, address his needs, overcome objections and develop a plan of action to execute quickly. Simple. I've done this professionally 100 times. After dinner I managed to pull Owen aside and execute my strategy. First I asked him about the comment to his teacher. He confirmed the conversation and I did as all the experts say to do, I validated his feelings of desiring more time with his mother. In fact, I told him, I felt the same way. I desired the same time with him. As our discussion moved into the fun time we had shared just the day before, I realized it wasn't the lack of time we spent together that was the issue. It was that time with Mom was a whole lot more fun than the ordinary day. Our beach outing had just reminded Owen of that. I was doing an okay job at being a mom. In fact, I was doing such a good job at making our time quality time that it was like giving a child sugar. They just couldn't get enough. What I had originally identified as a reason for guilt was actually a pat on the back that I was doing okay. I wasn't perfect, but I was trying hard. And Owen noticed it. Have you got a story about motherly guilt? Share your experiences with other moms on our message boards.