I Am SAHM, Hear Me Roar

This weekend, I made my own Declaration of Independence.  Independence from the full time working world, that is.  As long as fate... and our bank account play along, I want to be a Stay At Home Mom.  "Aren't you already a SAHM?", you ask.  Well, yes, but back in the Fall of 2007 when I stopped working, it was always with the intent of going back to work once the kids hit school age.  Over the past year or so, I've had moments of panic, moments where I've thought, "I really need to start looking for a job NOW so I don't have a hard time finding one when the time comes to go back to work."  I'd throw my resume out on Monster and Career Builder, then get all worked up when no one was biting...or worse, when someone would bite and then eventually pass on hiring me.  A couple of times, I got really close to actually getting a job, at which point I'd start getting antsy about the reality of having to stick the kids in daycare for long hours and not being able to see them for more than a few hours on weekdays.   All along I've had mixed feelings about the choice in front of me.  The longer I stay home with the kids, the harder it is to transition back into the working world.  As a SAHM, I'm depriving the family of a second income, the chance to save for the kids' college and retirement or for big, family vacations.  On the other hand, I'm getting a chance to have a direct influence on their young lives and their development. 

All of these considerations have had me "on the fence" about rejoining the work force and I'll be honest, my job search has been half-hearted.  Just last week, I was contacted by a recruiter who found my resume online and wanted to consider me for a job opening.  The torn emotions were stirred up, yet again.  Finally, The Man put it on the line as he saw me stewing over the possibilities.  "Do you want to work or do you want to stay home?"  The truth...the real truth is, I want to stay home for the long haul.  My Mom went back to school when I was about 8 and finished when I was in high school, then went straight into her new career field.  My Dad was in the Navy and was away from home a lot, sometimes for months at a time.  I never resented the hard work they were doing to give us a good life, but at the same time, I missed having them there.  I watched in envy many times when I'd have an activity going on and other kids had family there to cheer them on...and I didn't.  I remember being the "latch key kid" and having my older brother and sister begrudgingly babysit me.  I don't want that for SweetPea and Lil Buddy.  I want to walk them to school...to be there during plays and dance recitals...to help them with their homework...and most of all, help them grow, learn and develop into the grown people they will be someday.  The world is a lot scarier place compared to when I was younger and it seems to me the threats to kids these days are easier avoided by having at least one parent around after school to make sure they stay as safe as possible.  So, I made the commitment to make staying at home work.

In a couple of years, both kids will be in school and I'll have a little more time on my hands.  I may decide to try to find part time work during the hours where they're at school, just to bring in a small bit of extra money.  I'm making a point to search for something right now that I can do from home that might generate a little income.  In complete honesty, my Etsy store is not doing it right now.  I'm facing the reality that it may never be more than a hobby that brings in some money from time to time.  I would love to leverage my writing skills into something that pays, so I'm concentrating on beefing up my blog and on doing some freelance editing work (right now I'm a beta reader for a friend who's writing a novel).  Time will tell how it will work out for me.

My declaration has been made and I'm hoping like crazy that I can remain a SAHM for the long haul!

Its Going to be a Long 7 Months

(this picture was taken during my last pregnancy, in December 2008)

Remember your first pregnancy? How you could freely take naps in the afternoon? You could ban entire food groups from the house until your morning sickness had completely passed? You wondered "how on earth could women with more than one child do this?"...

Being pregnant and chasing after 2 kids at the same time, sucks. There is no candy coating the situation. Even with my last pregnancy, while I had a 2 year old to supervise/raise, it was easier. I could nap on the couch while she watched Yo Gabba Gabba. I'd trained her to do things in a fashion that supported my lazy lifestyle.

Well those days are long gone.

Not only do I have 2 kids to take care of this time around, but one of them is still a baby. Turning one year old only a week ago, he doesn't understand any bit of "Mommy is tired", nor would he care if he did. To make things worse, when my nausea is kicked into high gear, he lets loose on his diaper, and I swear to God he laughs about it after I've run out of the room holding my breath praying that I'll make it to the bathroom in time. This morning when the kids woke me up, Charlie in his room crying because "waaaaah, I'm in my bedroom all alone, the world is ending, waaaaah", and Eleanore jumping up and down on her bed singing songs about "its a beautiful day, to laugh, and play! Its a beautiful day, to LAUGH and PLAAAAY!", I had to carry the baby down the stairs. Carrying 27 pounds of curious leaning-over-as-far-as-he-possibly-can-to-see-down-the-stairs-baby, is not a nice way to start the morning. Not only could I have slept for an additional 20 hours, but upon waking, my stomach feels like its twisted completely inside out, and what is that horrible taste in my mouth anyways?!

Yesterday Eleanore and I made cookies for her Daddy, who was starting a new class at work. Normally, I'd eat at least 5 cookies worth of dough, and then equal or more than that after they came out of the oven. But no, all I could think of the entire time, was chicken ceasar salad. To try and show my body who was boss, I took a bite of cookie anyways. BAD IDEA. Can you guess what happened next? It wasn't pretty.

My parents got Eleanore the movie "A Little Princess" for Christmas. I loved that movie when I was little, which is why my dad picked it out for her. Yesterday I got out blankets and asked Eleanore to snuggle up with me on the couch while we watched it. A few minutes into it, she had kicked the blanket off, because it wasn't the blanket she wanted, and then a few minutes after that, had wandered off to play with toys. There I was, crying at the not-even-sad-yet parts, smothering myself in abandoned blanket. I asked my husband to come watch it with me next, since I was apparently watching it alone now, and after a few minutes of sitting at my feet, he wandered off to look up football crap on the computer. It doesn't matter that hes watched every game in existence, and every post game wrap up on every sports channel that our cable programming will let him see, he just couldn't sit with me for even 10 minutes to help me calm down, could he? Eleanore saw that I was sad, and brought me pony friends to keep me company (thank you Eleanore, I wish it was you cuddling me, but a big talking pony will have to do), and when the movie was over, she yelled at Daddy "why didn't you watch the movie with Mommy?", after I had stormed upstairs to cry in the comforts of my flannel sheets. "You didn't watch it with me either, Eleanore!", I would have answered had I been able to breathe through my sobbing tears.

And then a 2 hour nap later (ok, so even though he didn't watch the cry baby little girl movie with me, having Christopher home a couple hours early seemed to work out to my advantage after all), I was back to normal. No more crazy lady mood swings, no more chocolate chip cookie standoffs, I was better!

...until a half hour later when I got a wiff of dirty diaper. Dangit! Its going to be a long 7 months.

The Outing Snob

Is it just me or has having kids made you more selective about doing activities outside the home? Not only have regular dates been put on the back burner (for us anyway) but you now find yourself trying to justify getting out of running mundane errands too.

I used to be able to pick up and run to the grocery, library, post office, etc, whenever I wanted to. But that was PK (Pre-Kids). Now when we're out of milk, I immediately start thinking about cold cereal alternatives: oatmeal, french toast, that lonely tomato on the counter; whatever doesn't require milk to eat. The same goes for bread or toilet paper, there has to be something else we can use so I don't have to pack up two squirming kids just to pick up one item. Because realistically, it should only take me 10 minutes to do it, but with kids, it's at least an hour, easy. Was that pack of Charmin really worth it? Two tantrums and a screaming fit later, I think not. We'll use the rest of the Kleenex next time. :oP

Jim and I have also become "snobbier" about our date nights. When we used to eat out, we ate whatever we were craving and watched any movie just to kill some time and to get out of the house for a bit. Now we have off-limit restaurants, like Red Robin, because we practically live there with the kids when we eat out as a family. When we're kid-free, we want our restaurant to be also. "Yes, Dahling, please don't seat us next to the breeders; we have the night off." We also want a menu that doesn't advertise a dish called the Chipper Chicken with Smiley Fries.

Now as far as movies go, if it's not some action filled blockbuster, we'll wait for the video. A movie must be big screen worthy if we're going to bother with a sitter and pay for an evening out. I have missed many a chick flick due to this rule, so thank goodness for movie rentals and lazy weekends in.

Jim and I are also hockey fans, but I don't want to bother going to a game unless our team has a good chance of beating the other guys (I have to study the team stats beforehand). Mind you, I wouldn't have cared PK, but when nights out coincide with blue moons, I don't want to be disappointed in a crappy game. Kind of puts a damper on the night when the score ends up being 0-6. The only saving grace there is a good brawl. :oP

Yes, I dare say, I'm now an Outing Snob. If it's not worth the trouble, tantrum or sitter, count me out. But fill me in on the details so I can at least live vicariously through you. *sigh* Unless it's just a run to the store to get tp, because then I'll giggle and ask why you didn't just use the rest of the Kleenex.

Good Boy!

Top 10 Reasons Raising Boys is Like Raising Puppies

10. They will beg for their food, especially snacks.

9. They can destroy absolutely anything in a matter of sheer minutes.

8. They find large puddles of mud utterly and completely irresistible.

7. They can be trained to play “fetch” with a baseball/tennis ball/ping pong ball – any ball will do really.

6. They need to be walked daily.

5. They like to “mark their territory”.

4. After long romps in the great out doors they should be searched thoroughly for ticks.

3. They can’t resist sampling toilet water.

2. They are constantly jumping up on their owners for attention.

1. And the number 1 reason that raising boys is so much like raising puppies: their bite is often much worse than their bark!

A Day in the Life of a Mom With a Kid that Won't Nap

7:00am - 7:30am - The boys wake up full of energy while mom rolls out of bed groggy and still half asleep

7:30am - 7:35am - coffee, coffee, and more coffee thanks to the full pot that's waiting for me because I have an awesome husband who sets the timer for it to brew at 7:00am everyday

7:35am - 8:08am - breakfast, get the boys dressed and make sure Brayden is ready for school

8:08am - The bus comes and I'm down to one kid for the rest of the day

8:09am - more coffee

8:15 - Noon - cleaning, playing with Gage, cleaning some more, Internet-ing, cleaning, playing, and so on and so on ... you get the idea

12:00 Noon - Gage is a brat and is living up to the definition of terribly two in every way, shape, and form possible. Mom is tired too, still not having fully woke up yet from this morning. Its nap time.

12:10pm - 1:00pm - crying, screaming, playing around with his blanket, more crying, tantrums, desperate calls for a drink (aka stalling), sneaking toys into bed, still not sleeping

1:00pm - mom, who is in a crabby mood because of the events of the last hour and lack of sleep, finally gives up.

1:00pm - 8:00pm Gage is a total living terror because of his refusal to nap, mom is still crabby.

8:00pm - bedtime, the events of nap time repeat themselves, this time Dad is home, so its his turn to deal with the screaming 2 year old in the next room.

8:10pm - Dad can't get Gage to calm down, and I end up going in there anyways

9:00pm - Gage finally cries himself to sleep.

**********

That is pretty much my everyday, the only variation is on the weekends when Brayden is home from school, in which Gage's tantrums increase tenfold because there is someone here to play with and he knows it. He still needs a nap, a rest a break, whatever you want to call it. He has in no way outgrown the nap scenario, but now Gage, my once sweet little boy, knows how to fight that dreaded hour of each day and push all of mommy's buttons in the mean time.

And this drives mommy to drink!

Caffeine that is. I must have a constant stream of coffee flowing into my blood system at all times. In fact I'm pretty sure that if I were to give blood coffee would come out.

My kids wake up full of energy each and every day while I barely find the strength to roll myself out of bed. How they fight sleep and seem so full of life without (what I consider) adequate amounts of it I don't know.

I'm tired.

But Whyyyyyy?

I was well warned about the incessant questions stage of a preschooler's development. I also saw parents roll their eyes when talking about their own kids reaching that annoying little milestone. I knew about it, I expected it, but I always just shrugged it off and looked forward to answering my inquisitive little genius' questions.

I underestimated the stage greatly.

Gracie's questions have been going on for sometime now, but lately they have been fired fast and furiously. I was prepared for questions like, "Why is the sky blue," or "Why is the grass green?" But instead, Gracie leans more toward the ridiculous.

"Is that a girl? Is she a tink? Whats a tink? Is that boy a tink?"

-or-

"What time is is? Is it forty-thirty o'clock? Is it nuffernatter o'clock? Whats nuffernatter? Does that mean its bedtime? Is is bed time o'clock?

-or-

"Is that the color orange? Whats orange? Orange starts with G. Does orange start with G? Is orange a tink? Is it orange nuffernatter o'clock?"

And it goes on and on and on, all day and all night. So far, Gracie doesn't understand the rules to the "No Questions" game.

And of course, in perfect Gracie fashion, when my eyes are bugging out of my head and the veins are throbbing in my temple from the insanity of all the questions, she chooses to ask, "Do you love me, Mommy?"

Lucky for her, I do. Even with all the questions.

Originally posted a year ago on my personal blog... Now, at the age of four - Gracie's questions have not changed one bit!

xoxo,

"Pete and Repeat Were in a Boat...

Pete fell out, who was left?" Whoever thought up this sick joke was either a sadist or had young children they were trying to get even with. I tend to think the latter.

I don't know about you, but having to repeat myself is a pet peeve. And being ignored? An even bigger one. Now let's combine the two and call it every freakin' day at my house. Is it selective hearing or some kind of mutual annoyance. I dictate to them, so they ignore me. Whatever it is, there has GOT to be a better way!

Why don't children (at least mine anyway) ever require less than five reminders to do/not do something? I swear I didn't stutter the first four times, so what's the deal? And unfortunately, it's for everything. From "stop hitting your sister," to "go sit at the table," to "put your toys away." You name it and I've told them at least five times to do it. Unless it involves dessert. It's so odd that they always hear me the first time. In fact, I don't even have to finish a sentence with dessert in it. Weird.

How does one combat this horrible combination of disregard and repetitiveness? Am I missing something? Even getting down to their eye level and telling them exactly what they need to do, and getting an acknowledgment, doesn't seem to work. Are they trying to make me cranky? Because it's working. And no one benefits from that. Especially not the ill-timed telemarketing call.

I know I'm not the only one, so someone please tell me your kids outgrew this by the time they were five. Okay, six. Seven? Really, they still do it? Oh, teenagers. Yeah, well, that makes sense. No one can talk to them. So what you're really telling me, is this is a lifelong problem to which there is no solution. Kind of like accuracy in weather forecasting or the sock vortex in your dryer.

I suppose this means I just need to suck it up and lather, rinse, repeat. *sigh* Just don't call me. You've been warned. :oP

Late is a 4-Letter Word Too

Do you remember the days when you woke up 15 minutes before you had to be somewhere and yet you somehow managed to make it on time? How about being able to pick up and go to Taco Bell just for the heck of it? Yeah, me neither, but I know I used to be able to do it. Then I had kids.

Do you also remember that lady who could never make it to anything on time? Yeah, I see her every day. In fact, she’s usually glaring at me in my bathroom mirror. “Hurry up! You’ve got a nice busy day ahead of you and sleep is so overrated. You can catch up on it in 15 years. Let’s go!”

Amanda's post on 7/26 had me thinking about being constantly late, in actuality, I'm lucky to even make it out the door. I don’t ever recall reading in any of my parenting books that I would now have to revert to being that woman that people sneer at for being late or make snide remarks about. “How hard is it to be on time? Maybe we should tell her it starts an hour earlier so she’ll make it.” These people OBVIOUSLY don’t have young children and the typical preparation for an outing usually goes something like this:

“Alright, I’m dressed, the kids are dressed, we need shoes. Peri, get your shoes on. Ryah, come here.... I’ve got the library books to return and the book bag to carry the new books in. Peri, get your shoes on. Ryah, come here.... Ah, I can’t forget to drop off that package at the post office on the way. Where’s my purse? Peri, get over here and put your shoes on, NOW! No, Ryah, put your clothes back on!... Where’s the diaper bag, dang, only one left; I’ll have to pick some more up while I’m out. What?! No wipes! Grrrr, that too. Ohmygawd, Child, seriously, put your shoes on so we can go! Don’t you want new books? Ack! Ryah, get out of the pantry! No, don’t eat the baker’s chocolate!.................”


And we’re an hour late. My, where did the time go. Oh yes, after the chocolate came the second bath and we started all over again. This would definitely be one of those times where I could have ran all of my errands in the amount of time it took to get us out the door to do it. *sigh* And some people wonder why I don’t leave the house. Because it’s almost an Olympic Event and if I’m going to compete, I want a gold medal for my efforts. Or at least a really big candy bar and a massage.

Motherhood is a Condition

No really, there are symptoms and everything!

Condition: Motherhood

Symptoms: sore throat, watery eyes, insomnia, shortness of breath, shortness of patience, mood swings and irritability. Symptoms can be mild to moderate and sometimes severe. Studies have shown a direct correlation with the temperament of the child. Mothers of multiple children may also suffer from insanity.

Root Cause: French kissing. For some reason, pregnancy and childbirth were the end results.

Prevention: The only surefire prevention is devotion to a nunnery but this video is also very effective...

Treatment: For those who have already succumbed to The Motherhood, early and aggressive treatment is key. You may find relief using some of these: personal time-outs, chocolate, screaming into a pillow and the occasional martini. Symptoms are likely to come and go with the passing of time, but rest assured, most symptoms will clear up all together in about 18 years.

Bottoms up!

Originally posted 4/30/09 on Winklepots and Random Thoughts

The Pros and Cons

As with any job, there are pros and cons to Motherhood. And with any luck, your list of pros outweighs your list of cons, which is how your children manage to live for another day.

Surprisingly, being a stay-at-home-mom isn't all that different from my previous jobs in Corporate America; my boss is younger than me, knows more than I do and tends to make outrageous demands on my time. You want me to do your laundry, chauffeur you to preschool, pick up your room and make you lunch? All before noon? I nod and smile and hope that all of this leads to a promotion called Grandma, in about 20 years. This can also be secretly referred to as Payback and is high on the Pro List. Play your cards right and you can parlay that promotion into Great Grandma and be the CEO and Monarch over all your subjects. You will be "The Godmother" and know all. Of course, we all know you hold this power now but you exercise it sparingly in order to give your kids a false sense of hope because it's more fun when you yank the rug out from under them later. This is also high on the Pro List.

Unfortunately, your kids will eventually become teenagers and any way you spin it, this is a big Con. While they'll want to spend less time with you, be able to drive themselves around and hopefully start making their own money (yes all big Pros) they'll continue to mooch room and board, become experts of knowledge and cause you insomnia while you wait up all night for them to come home. *sigh* Con. But this is when the power of The Motherhood can be fun. The punishments are better at this age. TV? Gone. Cell phone? Disabled. Car? Hahahaha, yeah, that's mine and you can't drive it. Pro. Pro. Pro.

So this Mother's Day, I will personally revel in the fact that while my bosses may be big pains in my @$$ at times, they are still blissfully unaware of the power that Motherhood has given me. And I think I shall let them survive yet another day because the future could be fun and despite it all, I still inexplicably love them. But oh how the tables will turn. Mwahahahahaha....ha.


You Can't Scare Me tee from signaturetshirts

**Originally posted 5/10/09 on Winklepots and Random Thoughts

The Tale of Prince Gage PeesAlot

Once upon a time there was a little prince who wore a little crown. His name was Prince Gage PeesAlot.

Prince Gage PeesAlot lived in a grand castle made of graham crackers surrounded by a moat of chocolate milk. The sun always shines in his kingdom and the stars always twinkle. Prince Gage led quite a charmed little life.

BUT

In order to become the king and rule all the lands he had to not only perform a task, but master it.

Prince Gage PeesAlot had to use the royal throne and renounce his diapers forever.

He couldn't quite figure out the potty.

He stood on it.

He tore it apart.

He sat on it.

But never did he pee on it (or rather in it!).

Rather than use the enchanted potty Prince Gage preferred to to roam the castle commando style, peeing wherever he pleased, leaving the royal attendants to clean up after him wherever he would roam. Prince Gage, odd fellow that he was, even renounced his crown and fashioned a new one from the seat to the otherwise unused throne.

He used all of the old fashioned tried and true methods in order to master the potty chair, including rousing rounds of Sink the Ships, Make Bubbles, and Pee for Gold (aka stickers). Unfortunately, as Prince Gage PeesAlot has the attention span of a housefly, he remained completely uninterested in his task.

Finally, one day, where in a fit of defiance or just a random act of compliance Prince Gage PeesAlot took a big huge dump on his potty.... and then proceeded to never touch the thing again, finally having decided that he was better suited to remain a prince and wear diapers than to be a king and wear big boy underwear with Thomas the Tank Engine on them.

Alas, whatever happened to Prince Gage PeesAlot I do not know. The rumor across the land is that his diaper using ways drove his poor mother insane.

I'm 2 Years Old, and I'm e.v.i.l.

"Button, button, who's got the button because I want to push it!" This seems to be the internal monologue playing on repeat in my 2-year-old's head. Apparently, Jim and I pushed our luck when we had such an easy going first child, we thought it was a great idea to have another one just like her.

Ryah's favorite thing to do is torment her older sister. We have a split level home and the bottom stairs are gated off at the top. Lately, Ryah has been taking toys right out of Peri's hands and running over and throwing them down the stairs. Then she laughs while Peri screams, "No, Ryah, no! That's Peri's toy!"

At night, the girls will lay in their beds and Ryah will let out a scream and then a hearty laugh. Every time she screams, Peri cries and tells Ryah to stop. Peri has an aversion to loud sounds, and she shares a room with the loudest sound in the house. I can't believe she's only two and knows how to push her sister's buttons and take great delight in doing it.

As for punishing Ryah, I haven't yet found something that will work. I can get her to sit in timeout, but she laughs if I swat her on the butt and repeats everything I say when I'm scolding her.

"Ryah, that was naughty."

"Nonny."

"Don't throw Peri's things."

"Don' frow Peri's fings."

"Be a good girl."

"Good girl."

"You're driving me nuts!"

"Nuts."

"Argh!!!!"

*giggle giggle*

Is it wrong of me to encourage my oldest to pick on my youngest? :oP

The t-shirt is just ironic.

The Little Twerp

** Cross-posted from my regular blog. Things haven't changed since the original post, last month.

She only LOOKS sweet and innocent

I've had it coming my entire life.

"Just you wait until you have a daughter Just. Like. You." my mom always warned. Of course I just laughed and rolled my eyes.

And then I had a daughter Just. Like Me.

Little Annelie Cecelia. She looks so sweet, so adorable. But in reality, she's a whirling dervish of high energy and non-stop trouble-making. Every time I call my mom and exclaim, in complete exasperation, "Listen to what Annelie just did... I don't know what to do with her!" My mom just laughs and says, "Yep. She's just like you."

Annelie's latest escapades involve sneaking into the bathroom (I'm not sure how she gets past the childproof doorknob covers but, like Houdini, she can get past anything), locking the door behind her, and then getting into all sorts of trouble. The toilet gets flushed repeatedly, the sink over flows, and about 2 inches of water is often found on the bathroom floor. Meanwhile, I'm clawing the doorknob with a bobby pin, and hollering, "ANNELIE! Turn off that water RIGHT NOW!" and "ANNELIE! Flush that toilet one more time and you will be on time out FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!"

And when I see her doing naughty things, and I shout out my usual exclamation of surprise, "HEY!"

... Annelie just closes her eyes and croons oh so sweetly, "You've got to hiiiiide your love away."

When its time to paint, she watches me very, very carefully, just waiting for the moment when I turn my back and she can paint a kitty nose onto her face.

When its lunchtime, she waits until I get up to fetch her a glass of water, so she can shove some peas in her ears.

When its bath time, she waits until I blink, so she can dump a handful of water on the bathmat.

And when its time to get lunch made, she stands directly behind me, waiting for the moment when I turn my back on the fridge and forget to close the childproof lock, so that she can grab the carton of yogurt and run into the living room as fast as she can. And when I notice her, not two seconds later, the damage is already done, of course. Yogurt on the carpet, in her hair, smeared all over her face...

*sigh*

She's a twerp.

But I do have to give her some credit. She is the most affectionate little two year old, for at least a few minutes every single day... well, every single night... well, wee hours of the morning, because I find that the only moments of the day in which Annelie sits still for a cuddle, is when she wakes up in the middle of the night.

"Mama. I wanna cuddle me," she always says. And so I hug her and hug her and hug her some more, remembering the days when she was a sleepy little baby and wanted nothing more than to just be held and adored.

I'm sure I'm making a mistake for taking the time to cuddle her in the middle of the night. I don't know what the Super Nanny would say, but it would probably be along the lines of, "Mummy, what are you thinking!? She needs to be put back in her bed until she learns to sleep through the night. She's already two, for heaven's sake."

But truthfully, if it wasn't for those midnight moments of sweetness, I probably would have sold her on the black market for $2.50 a long time ago.

Okay, maybe not, but the idea certainly would have crossed my mind more often than it already does.

Circa 1983...
I only LOOKED sweet and innocent, too

Mom, I'm sorry. Thank you for not selling me on the black market for $2.50.

And Annelie... if you don't stop that RIGHT NOW, you are going to be on time out for the rest of your life.

xoxo,

SAHM is a Four Letter Word

Okay, so it's really a four letter acronym, but whatever, I've got enough going on and I can't be bothered with the petty details.

You know, boy meets girl, they fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. Until someone has the genius idea that maybe "we should have a baby." We delude ourselves to think we'll be the best parents ever and we won't "raise our kids like that." Of course, we're usually eyeing the frazzled mom of 4 who's two year old is throwing an all out kicking and screaming meltdown, while she holds onto her 4 year old and scolds him for hitting his 6 year old brother, and OMG, what did the baby just put in her mouth?! I don't think that was edible.

It's easy when you have one, though, you don't realize it until you have two and by then, it's too late to realize how good you really had it. Damn hindsight. Once you have two, that's double the daycare and you begin to realize that it really isn't worth going to a job you hate only to squander most of your paycheck to keep your kids at someone else's house while you pretend to give a rats ass about those TPS reports. And so, you decide to *gasp* become a stay-at-home-mom. Ugh. Those four words could not have more vomit inducing meaning for me. I think God may have forgotten to give me a maternal instinct and went a little overboard with honesty and snarkiness.

So yes, I am a {gulp} stay-at-home-mom, technically speaking anyway. And it's by far the hardest worst paying job I've ever had. That includes the time I worked concessions at the local movie theatre for $6.50/hr so that people could complain about candy prices and insist I give them a coronary by adding a gallon of extra butter to their popcorn.

Whoever tried to depict the stay-at-home-mom as some couch sitting, soap opera watching, bon-bon eating laze has clearly never done it. And I wish more than anything they'd been right because I feel a little misled. :oP


This was one of my favorite posts, and bears repeating. Originally posted here.