What I didn't expect {S@HM}


Disclaimer: This is a (hopefully) humorous attempt outline my findings after being a Stay at Home Mom for six years.  This is in no way a well executed strike to enter myself into the mommy wars.  
I only know this side of the story.
Also this is a reblog, it originally appeared on Nay's first blog a year ago.

Years ago, I thought I knew what being a stay at home mom would be like.  I had this preconceived notion that it was play dates and martinis.  I will freely admit that I was under the impression that stay at home moms were so 1950s.  Didn't my mother and her friends burn their bras so I could be a working mom?  These are the 2010s, and I'm very able and capable and it's my right to "have it all", nay "do it all".  Or so I thought.

The reality is that being a "home economist", "domestic diva", or the "CEO of a family", is a job that is so incredibly hard it rarely gets its due.  Most of us are viewed as "non working", as if changing diapers, breastfeeding, or picking up the same damn toys every hour on the hour is a cake walk. I have learned these last 5 years, that being a stay at home mom has it's perks, it's blessings, and it's rewards.  However it's not at all what I expected.

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Yes!
Now you have it all...
Pinterest via Lorrine Blanchet via googleglassproject


Here is what I now know about the hardest job I never interviewed for.


There are no bon-bons, martinis, or personal trainers.  There are however, soggy goldfish crackers, half full juice boxes, and snot on your sleeve.  SAHMotherhood is not glamorous, unless you are famous and/or independently wealthy.  Unless you have an entourage of "people" who help you get ready for the day, you are most likely never ready for the day.  And by "people" I don't mean the short people running around like a pack of wild dogs, trying to break the world record of how many times "mom" or "mommy" can be uttered in a minute.   

Funny Family Ecard: Don't worry sweetie. Mommy is here. I'm just wearing make up.
My kids always freak when my eyebrows are done!
someecards

With the glamour gone you will find your uniform.  Yoga pants and Uggs, Jeans and Toms, sweats and Nike's.  Whatever.  Easy becomes the fashion trend you adopt, because really why waste a great ensemble on 2 kids under 3 who will most likely drool, vomit, or grab your white pant leg with Cheeto hands.  If I were to offer advice here I would say shoot for yoga pants and a tank top.  This way all the people in Target will think that your hair is greasy from working out, and not from skipping another shower because your toddler started screaming as the water started running.


There is always tomorrow.  This is a motto my friend Krysten's grandma told her.  SAHMotherhood means that there is always tomorrow, so if you are anything like me, you live in a constant mode of procrastination.  I can always start (insert housework chore here) tomorrow.  That's why my laundry looks like a mountain range, my base boards look like they were painted greige on purpose, and that gourmet dinner I pinned, is literally going on the back burner.  As in, I'll just get to that tomorrow.  Tomorrow being when I'm out of mac and cheese, the kids are out of pjs or we're hosting a birthday party at our house.


Cooking is optional.  Before I became a SAHM, I really thought that I'd be the mom that made everything from scratch, daily.  Pancakes for breakfast, some kind of vegetable dish for lunch, and an award winning dinner.  Not so much.  For starters, breakfast in our house is a term used very loosely.  Sure, I have been known to bake some cinnamon rolls a morning or two (always from the can), or whip up some chocolate chip pancakes.  Why not?  But I have been also known to toast some french toast sticks, open some string cheese, and on some desperate mornings dole out Oreos.  Because some mornings are harder than others, sometimes lunch is chips and Capri Suns, and sometimes dinners are grilled cheese sandwiches.


Cooking is also redefined.  If you have to microwave it, use a pan, or boil something, you my dear have cooked.  Remember that, repeat it, write it and post it on the fridge.  Grilled cheese involves cooking, chicken nuggets require a microwave, and poptarts can be toasted or not.  But if you are using an appliance before presenting it to your child, you are cooking.  Now pat yourself on the back.


Someone is going to insult you.  Be ready.  There will be someone who will say, to your face (yes, to your face) that you are "just" a SAHM.  Don't take offense.  Or, take offense.  They likely have no idea what you do all day.  There will also be someone, famous or otherwise, who will think they know everything there is to know about (insert mothering speciality here), and it will make you feel like a bad mom.  Don't let some celebutant bully you into to thinking less about yourself of your mothering abilities.  Someone else will talk about how you don't really work, because you don't leave the house in order to clock in and out.  Fine.  Whatever.  Ask them nicely if you can drop your kids off for 24-48 hours.  Then see what they think about your "just" a SAHM-ness.


SAHMs don't get breaks, holidays, or hazard pay.  Like a doctor without the paycheck or the good drugs, this stay at home mom gig is a 24 hour shit show.  I'd love to take a 15 minute break every 4 hours but it just ain't gonna happen.  You also don't get real weekends and Fridays will come to mean nothing more than another day of the week. When you stay home with your kids, you are at their disposal.  Whether you like it or not.  It's a 24 hour round the clock job that requires you to be alert, patient, kind, motivated, and perky.  Although I never manage to be all those things at once.

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Yep, 24/7
Pinterest via Nipajaai Naulneda via .someecards

Find success in the small things.  If I'm being honest I will tell you that 6 months into being a SAHM I felt like a failure.  I was home all day, with just one child and most days I didn't even shower.  I felt like there weren't enough hours in the day.  Slowly I realized that the little successes of the day, motivated me for the bigger ones to follow.  For example my kids ate veggies today.  A meal was actually cooked on Tuesday.  A load of laundry got washed and dried on Thursday.  Sometimes happy kids, who ate 3 squares, who were on their best behavior at Target (while sipping on Icees), and who are now quietly playing while the Fresh Beat Band sings in the background is a MAJOR SUCCESS.  The laundry will be there, the dishes can wait, and I have yet to inspect a baseboard of another mom while visiting her home.


I'm not the expert on being a SAHM.  I'm just one of many, who tries to navigate my way through the ups and downs of a demanding job, with a demanding schedule, and 2 very demanding bosses.  Maybe I have a problem with priorities, some may say I'm lazy.  This is just a little look into what I have discovered doing the hardest job that requires no license, no application, prerequisites, or an interview.  Which is a blessing, because I would have never gotten past the panel interview.


 

 
PS: I have no idea what it's like to be a working mom.
I've worked part time in the past and I'm horrible at it.
If you are a working mom, your job is harder than mine.
Don't let anyone tell you any different.
I can barely get my kid to school on time, and usually I'm in my pjs.

Encouraging the (im)possible


My daughter is a dreamer.  Much like her mother.  At six, she already has a plan mapped out for her life.  She wants to be a fashion designer, a hair dresser, a dancer, a rock star.  She wants to sing like Taylor Swift.  She wants to act like the kids on Jessie.  Recently she told me she wants to be in commercials.  I remember being six, and twelve, and eighteen, and twenty four.  Dreaming about my life.  What I wanted to be, what I wanted to do.  So as we have these conversations, Caitlin and I, I always agree that she can be whatever she dreams to be.

Deep down I know the truth.  The odds of being the next Taylor Swift are slim.  Becoming the next Michael Kors may never happen.  That no matter the level of her dramatics, becoming the next Disney star is almost nil.  Add to all of that the fact that she is tone deaf, much like her mother.  I don't mention any of it.  I've never said a word about her singing, her drawing, her choice in mixing prints (which is pretty good if you follow along on Instagram).  I will never deter her from believing she can be the next big (insert something epic here).  Because her life will be full of deterrents.  Many of them she will bestow upon herself.

I know because I battle myself every day.  I always have.  Am I smart enough?  Am I pretty enough?  Am I successful enough?  Am I a good enough mom?  Am I doing this right?  I look at Caitlin with dreams so fresh and sweet and long for that life.  The life before I knew "no".  The life before I knew failure.  I want to bottle that for her.  To capture her and her dreams in a bubble and keep them safe.  I want her to always have that.  

Caitlin is beautiful and tenacious.  She is stubborn and sensitive.  She is a dreamer, and a planner, and a list maker.  All shades of her mother.  All characteristics of a type A in the making.  As her mother, I'm trying my hardest to foster confidence.  To confirm that she can be all that she dreams.  All while worrying about that day when someone tells her she's tone deaf, or that she can't draw, or that she just can't.  I'm not looking forward to that, because I know, once the seed of doubt is planted, it grows from the inside out.

For now I take comfort in knowing that she is confident in herself.  In her fashion choices.  In her voice, and in her song.  I love how she sings even though she doesn't know the words.  I love that she makes up her own songs and scripts as she plays with dolls or ponies.  I love that she creates and dreams without fear or hesitation.

A few weeks ago, she discovered the "cups song".  It's been on repeat ever since.  She wants to practice and perform it in next years talent show.  I say a hesitant yes, as I know she will undoubtedly change her mind.  Like she does with most of her plans and dreams.  Like she does as the years go by.  She continues to change, and dream, and plan a grand and happy life.

view the video here
And who am I to stop her?


I'll be linking up with Amanda.
How about you?
A Royal Daughter

What day is it? {Hump day Happenings


Hey, hey, hey.
What day is it?

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Right?

Now that I've got your attention you can totally tell I have nothing prepared for today.
So I thought I'd share some things I've found around the Internets.
Your Welcome in advance.

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Bon wrote a take no prisoners post about why she has stopped following some blogs.
And give an Amen in the comments.

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Who else is happy that summer is over so we don't get confused by 
delicious hot dogs or really nice legs?


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For serious right now.

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I'm kind of over this entire adult situation.
Add to the fact that moms can't call in emotionally unbalanced.

Before you go, let me share a really bright spot in Bloggy Land.
I joined in the Cuppa Kim Mug Swap.
It was super fun, and now of course there is a link up.

Here is what the lovely Kristin gave me:


Boom.
That's a Starbucks gift card with that pretty owl mug.
Thank you Kristin.

And if you are a nosy you know what like me, hop on over to Cuppa Kim,
and check out all the Mug Madness.



Or not.
It's hump day after all.

Friday Failure {a letter to my daughters}


picture courtesy of someecards
Dear Daughters,

Friday was a failure of Epic proportions.
It wasn't your fault, not even a little.
It wasn't your fault that Mommy and Daddy stayed up until one in the morning.
It's not your fault that the football game didn't end until midnight.
It's not your fault that we didn't get home until 12:45.
Which you may have noticed is an ungodly hour when you have to be up at 6.

It's not your fault that Mom missed her 6 am alarm, and snoozed until 7:15.
It's not your fault that her eyes burned with the previous nights mascara.
That her head ached from lack of sleep.
That she did not want to make a lunch, pack a back pack, or tie shoes.

As you could tell from Friday morning Mommy was on a rampage.
Running late, her own doing.
Tired, her own doing.
Royal bitch face, yelling and screaming about being late and tired,
also her OWN doing.

I apologize that getting to school seemed like an adventure.
That Mommy only got more frustrated when she realized she was out of gas.
Then fell a little further off the edge,
when she realized her card was in her other wallet.

I apologize to you both for the failure that was Friday.
I hope that you know that I am really sorry.
I hope that me telling you both on Friday how sorry I was
supplied the proof.
I hope that you understand that Mommies are people too.
We make mistakes.
We have temper tantrums.
We need time outs too.

I did get a time out on Friday.
I got a nap.
I ate a meal.
I took stock in how far I've come as a mommy that I had 
confidence in myself to hit the reset button on a terrible day.

So I did what any mommy in my position would do.
Panda Express for dinner.
I let you watch brain rotting TV for the remainder of the day.
And we enjoyed an almost quiet, scream free night.

Because even though Mommy is very sorry about Friday,
she still has to pretend she's got it together.

XOXO,
Mommy

Farewell Summer


I had a feeling that this summer was going to be huge.
Jam packed with adventures.
Days spent in the scorching Fresno summer sun.

A big birthday.

A few vacations.


A much needed time to reconnect.

What I didn't know that there would be so many firsts.
Milestones that were expected but brought unexpected joy.

Milestones that made me sigh in relief, but also made me long for 
summers of the past.
Summers that were slower.
Summers where we were still little.
This summer was the bridge that took my kindergartner to first grade.

It was the summer that took her from counting her age in years on one hand to two.
It will be the summer she will remember for all the growing that she did.


It was a summer spent watching Mac carve out a little independence.

Deciding that dance classes were fun.
Taking a chance on school.
Surviving an extended weekend without mom and dad.

This summer is the one I will remember for late nights in our driveway.

With friends that became family.

Planning adventures we would never forget.
And making major life decisions that would change everything.

This is the summer I will not soon forget.
The one that reminded me of who I once was.

The one that reminded me how to have fun again.
The summer that gave my marriage a chance to exhale.

Farewell Summer.
Thanks for the memories.