Summer. The time of year when my career choices allow me to stay home and be with my kids 24/7, to devote myself to being a stay-at-home parent 100% of the time. It is also the time of year when life, inevitably, gives me a swift kick in the teeth and I re-learn just how hard being a stay-at-home parent really is.
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| Zac's reaction whenever I say, "Ay, Ay, Ay these kids of mine!!" |
For the past 22 days my "shift" has started at 7:30 am (9am if my bosses let me sleep in) and has ended at 10:30 or 11pm after the dishes are done and laundry is folded (or after it is dumped into a neat pile to stand as a monument of my failures for another day...or another few days). In this time span, I manage nap schedules, tantrums (when the naps are mismanaged), dietary needs, entertainment needs, bodily fluid/waste removal needs, pain management needs, social development needs, academic development needs, environmental needs and emotional needs...to name a few.
During my shift, the physical demands of the job make it difficult for me to feel anything but exhausted -- All. The. Time. I'm right handed so my left arm is like three times the size of my right arm from holding a BIG baby boy who loves me so much he needs to hold me close at every minute of the day. My back aches and burns from being hunched over said baby who suddenly wants nothing to do with me the minute we are out in public because walking is cooler than being carried (so long as I stay close, and hold his hand for psychological, not necessarily physical balance). My legs ache, from ... gosh, I don't even know; I just wake up that way.
I plan meals -- and by "plan" I mean I stand in front of the fridge at meal time wondering what I can throw together before they start wiggling out of the chairs I've placed them in or before she starts complaining that she's not hungry anymore (only to be STARVING 10 minutes later). This gives me about a 5 minute window to find something allergen free and nutritious because, if it isn't, I'll pay for it later in other, more painful ways. The whole ordeal is so intense I bet the Food Network could make a hit show of it.
I live, and I mean I LIVE for nap time. The sacred couple of hours in the middle of my shift when I aspire to cram in a workout (because, in a cruel twist of fate, the running around and playing with the kids does NOTHING for my lingering post baby flab). It's the break in the day when I can aspire to fold the monumentally large laundry basket from last week, run the dishwasher so we have dishes for dinner time, clean up the blueberries that he pelted around the room because they looked too peculiar in their non-mushed up form to be food. The time of the day when I can be human again. When I can go to the bathroom in peace. Heck, some days, it's the time of day when I can finally get out of my pajamas!
Oh that beautiful nap time...that lovely benefit that makes the second leg of the day doable. Until...on some days, on some cruel, CRUEL days, the nap time doesn't come. Some days on these awful, kick- you-in-the-stomach days (coincidentally almost ALWAYS on days when we have somewhere fun or important to go to right after the nap), the nap doesn't come at the scheduled time, or at all, and I'm left with the following options:
1). Skip the nap. Have them crash upon arrival at the fun or important place. OR have them not crash but walk around like tiny little tantrum time bombs ready to explode at any moment and embarrass me at the fun or important place.
2). Force the nap. Bounce, rock, read stories, futility attempt to slow my heart rate because they can sense anxiety and stress and that makes them make the Sandman flee from my house.
3). Cancel the plans to the fun or important place.
Just a little tidbit sample of the exciting decisions you get to make in this fun stay-at-home parenting gig. It is HARD WORK!! I'm not out of my mind stressed with it, like I can be with my "9-5" when August rolls around and the school year starts up again. But it IS exhausting in new and challenging ways.
My deepest respect to my husband, and to all of my stay-at-home mommies out there. I bow down at your feet, because, clearly, I'm not worthy to do this gig full time the way you do. I admire the patience, the resolve, the flexibility that it all takes. No disrespect to all of my working mommies out there (your praise post is coming), because being a working mom is not easier by any means. But to all of the stay-at-home parents out there: Bravo. You are all amazing. How do you do it?! Because I'm running at full speed and I STILL can't catch up enough to get a good footing on it all. I congratulate you all for taking it on 365, all day every day.
Tonight, as my little demons.... {cough}...., I mean angels, sleep in their beds, I sit overwhelmed with gratitude for being in the trenches with you all. I may just be the temporary replacement for your fellow comrade (who incidentally is killing it with his crazy, out-of-this-world, 18 credit work load this summer -- he's my hero -- love you tons baby); and this full-time motherhood may only be a summer affair for me, but I am conscious of just how inexperienced I am, and of how brave YOU all are for devoting your lives to the cause. It's difficult and noble work. Bless you for doing it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to join you all in the ritualistic passing out in front of the TV evening. Goodnight.
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