Will, who will be six years old in April, was asked by his kindergarten teacher to draw a picture of his family. The picture to the left is the result.

When I saw it, I mistakenly thought he forgot about Sam, our newest addition. “Hey buddy, there I am with mom and we’re holding your hand, but I think you forgot about Sam, silly,” I said with a grin. His face immediately turned pale and his eyes darted furiously from me to his mother to the picture. His face contorted into a panicked look, leaving little doubt tears would be following closely behind.

“Sorry dad, I forgot to draw you in our family…because you’re always working.”

He would go on to tell me that while he loves me, he just loves his mom more. Ouch. Cue Cat’s in the Cradle with a side of massive working parent guilt.

Look, I won’t lie — this crushed me. CRUSHED me. Being thought of as some sort of absentee father by my kids is perhaps the biggest fear of any working dad, and I’m no exception.

I stayed calm right after he said it, and maintained enough perspective to avoid curling up in the fetal position and crying myself to sleep in the corner. After all, it should should come as no surprise he feels that way. Sure I work from home some days and it’s great that I get to make him breakfast and put him on the bus. But most days I’m gone before he wakes up and home an hour before he goes to bed. Even on the days I work from home I can’t play with him when he gets off the bus, because I’m doing work or taking conference calls. The number of times I say “Sorry bud, I’m working” is astronomical. His mom gets to play with him during the week, so what he said makes total sense.

But it makes me jealous of stay-at-home parents.

Not that I want to be one. Honestly, I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I’ve been working since I was 15 years old, I like my job now, and I’m the sole breadwinner at the moment so it’s pretty much mandatory. So why am I jealous of people with a job I don’t even want?

It’s because at the end of the day, stay-at-home parents can rest their heads at night knowing they’re doing the most important job in the world. Not the hardest, because despite the tired cliches, being a full-time parent is not the most difficult job there is. It’s not serving in the military or mining coal. However, raising and shaping a human being? Nothing is more vital.

Working parents know this. And that’s why we work — so we can provide enough money for our significant others to raise our kids. Everyone loves and appreciates the at-home parents. They know the routines, the special food orders, the imaginary friends, the school volunteers, and all the other little wonderful things that make parenting so special. The kids form a bond so deep and so strong because of all the time spent together, and that’s a great thing. A marvelous thing.

It’s a thing working parents want to feel too, but can’t.

Working parents are saddled with guilt because we’re not doing the most important job on Earth. And so many other parents, writers, and assorted media are all too quick to point that out. In fact, the only time you really hear about working parents is in articles about stay-at-home parents, in which we’re told working parents aren’t doing enough at home to help out.

Working parents who strive to be involved moms and dads are caught in this awful and perpetual catch 22. If we go balls to the wall at work we’ll succeed, but success comes with responsibilities which comes with time constraints. Moving up the ranks usually means spending even more time at work. So then you make a decision to spend more time at home, and it’s great to catch the baseball games and dance recitals. Except you run the risk of devaluing yourself as an employee. Suddenly you’re no longer up for that promotion and someone else got the raise you needed to afford the mortgage on the house you want to buy.

You’re trying to keep one foot in the office and the other at home. Too often the end result is being perfectly lackluster in each world, and feeling like you’re failing everyone all the time.

Which leads to the pressure.

As a working parent who is also a sole breadwinner, I can tell you with 100% certainty there is crippling pressure and worries. I know I’m one layoff away from disaster. One round of cuts away from calamity. From no health insurance for my wife and kids. From not being able to afford rent and utilities. It is a suffocating and constant fear. And it’s one we usually keep to ourselves (unless you’re a loudmouth who jots his thoughts down in a blog).

Working parents do all this knowing full well we won’t be the favorites. That we’ll be loved a little less. That we’ll be left out of cute, hand-scribbled kindergarten family drawings. Some day, when our kids are old enough and have gained enough life experience and perspective, they’ll see why we spent so many hours at the office and they’ll thank us for our sacrifices and hard work. Like I did with my own dad. And that’ll be nice.

But it won’t be years of stay-at-home warm and fuzzies.

Stay-at-home folks are terrific and they make the world go round. But let’s remember to save a little love for the working parents too. We need it.