Walls. Four of them. They tend to move at me, closing in. Sometimes I even see them pointing and laughing at me. Other times they move in the middle of the night and when sleep deprived mom wakes up to get the kids up, I’m usually bouncing off them all the way to each boy’s room.
I’m not the typical stay-at-home-mom. I don’t go run errands, go to the park, or just have a fun time. I am the SAHM that has the never ending laundry basket, dishes in the sink, and a dirty house. I constantly clean up after my lil man, and the rest of the family. Laundry is the evil villain in my house. It mocks me as I wash them. It’s like a horror movie! I’m throwing clothes in the washer and the laundry basket is laughing as the clothes are marching in and jumping in the basket. Clothes are also running around the house and running out of energy to just plop where they were. Sounds nightmarish huh?
Then you have toys. The evil villains trusted side kick. They come to life while you have your back turned, like the movie Toy Story. They live their normal lives amongst us giants that like to throw them in the box. I call them evil mainly because…well have you ever stepped on a toy blindly or even a Lego. I think that’s the equivalency of being shot but only by a toddler.
I am blessed that I am a SAHM but then again I am not. Some people would give their arm to be one, until they realize that it’s not all that fun. SAHM’s have no sick time, no vacation time, and no personal time. When you have the stomach bug, the cold, the flu, or whatever else can sneak in and get you, unfortunately you are the heart of the house and can’t miss a beat. Your youngen doesn’t care that you are sick; they want to play, or pee, or poop, or play choo-choos, or eat. Then you must do all that the little monster summons you to do or you will hear “mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mommie, mommie, mommie, mommie, mom, mom, mom, mom….” I remember when my lil man started to say mom, my heart just melted, not now! Mom is changing her name to El Crazioto.
Vacation time for the family means you still are at work doing the same thing except with some help from the assistant manager (dad) that seems to not do it the right way therefore making you work either twice as hard, or aggravated. Or they say “oh honey, I’ve worked all week, please handle this and I’ll do the next one.” That’s where I want to pull my trusted step stool out, climb those stairs, and smack him in the back of the head and say “oh honey, I’m still at work! At least you are able to leave your work!” Hubby works 3rd in my house and sleeps during the day. These are my hours: 6a-4p I am cleaning and playing with the kids, 4p-10p I have help from assistant, 5p-7p is cooking and eating dinner, 10p-6a I am on-call. This doesn’t include when Hubby is working over-time and going in early or the nights I have school work piled up to the ceiling and I only get 3-4 hours of sleep if I’m lucky. I have to work holidays, bad days, and days where I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Heaven forbid if me and the lil man woke up on the wrong side of the bed on the same day. That spells disaster at its best. Mega-Tornado. On those days I know to keep my mouth shut, and my mind busy or I’m going to snap like a green bean.
Personal time? I laugh at those two words. I go to the bathroom, lil man goes with me. I go take a bubble bath, lil man is playing in my bubbles. As I type this, lil man is sitting right on my left arm making it hard to type as he watches a bus that has to do errands. If you are like me, grocery shopping is personal time but then I’m worried about the kids when I’m gone. Personal time….I can’t stop laughing at those words.
There’s more to a SAHM. I’m a referee, maid, exterminator, short cook, chef, butt wiper, maid, snot wiper, vomit cleaner, boogie man catcher, nightmare calmer, maid, beating stick for wrestling boys, meal planner, grocery getter, financial advisor, bill payer, boo-boo fixer, teacher, search and rescue of lost toys and other items, maid, and this list could go on, and on.
I know it seems like I’m doing nothing but complaining…nope I’m venting. I love my life and the time I get to spend with my family. I love being able to see my lil man grow up and learn new things. I love being able to know that he isn’t getting all germed up at a day care and taking us all down with him. I love knowing that my kids are being raised correctly. I like being my own manager. I love being able to be pulled out of a bad mood by a simple hug and a “love yoo mommie.” I love being able to spend time with my family and not sitting in traffic cussing everyone and wishing I was a SAHM. I love my job regardless of its horrible benefits, and awful pay. I feel over-worked and under-appreciated, but when my boys grow up and get out of the house and have their own families…that’s when the appreciation will kick in. It’s a hard job, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.