Staying at Home

I will be the first to admit that when I first tossed out the idea of becoming a stay at home mother, I didn't think it would be all that hard. Like, come on... it's just a baby. I'll play dress up, and take naps, and cook delicious food... Such a lovely thought.

Now, don't get me wrong. I definitely played dress up with the girl child when she was a baby - such fun to dress up a baby girl. And yeah, we took naps... together. Oh, but I didn't know how to cook. It was A LOT of trial and error, mostly error, before I could cook decently. There were lots of other things I discovered I had to do, because I stayed at home and "had the time". Here is a list of things I "had" to do when I just had one child:

wash the laundry
fold the laundry
put away the laundry
pick up dog poop
throw away dog poop and put it inside a plastic bag, double bag so the bears don't get into the trash can        (we lived in Alaska when girl child was a baby)
shovel the driveway, and the side walk
walk the dog
run with the dog
teach girl child to eat
teach girl child to crawl
teach girl child to walk
teach girl child to talk
teach girl child to eat with spoon and fork
teach girl child ABC's, 123's, colors, shapes, and animals
teach girl child manners
teach girl child how to wipe her butt
go to the gym
loose weight
eat healthier
sweep the house
mop the house
scrub the toilets
change all the bed linens
dust the house
sanitize the kitchen, because kitchens are gross
go to FRG meetings, pretend to be warm and sweet
make real friends
make fake friends
read for fun
read to girl child
drive to the store and shop for food, for fun and because I am bored


I don't think that actually does it all justice... there are pressures, placed upon me by myself and by society, that are hard to articulate. Many people, mostly other women, that work and manage a household, will and have scoffed at me when I was having a hard time. The difference between a person that works full time, outside of the house, and a person that stays home full time is the expectation. For someone that works outside the home, and has children, it seems to be more acceptable for those people to have a bit of a messier life. If you stay home, and everything isn't exactly perfect, people wonder why you are having such a hard time... "it's not like you work".

I want to say, fuck you.

Last night, middlest was up at 1:00, 3:00, and then 5:00 just because... he refused to take a nap today, even though he was obviously tired. He did fall asleep for twenty minutes during a car ride, and woke up screaming because he thought there was a "yuck bug". He demanded dinner a full thirty minutes earlier than normal and screamed until it was finished being cooked. If I went to work outside the house, you want to know what would have happened? Someone else would have dealt with his insanity all day long. Instead, I have the truly amazing, spectacular, grand opportunity, to raise him myself and deal with his insanity. I love this kid, these kids, and I would not trade this time with them for anything. What I do need is for people to stop thinking I don't do anything.

On a slow day, I am a nurse, a chauffeur, an artist, a chef, a laundromat, a typist, a dog walker, a fitness buff, a blogger, a baby wearing, cloth diapering, waiting for daddy to come home, All Star. You don't get to judge me, because I stay at home with these delightful children I created. You don't get to judge me because of how many delightful children we chose to create. You don't get to judge me ever, ever, EVER because you don't know me.