On Being a Stay at Home Mom

I was thinking of posting a “flashback Friday” picture today, something from back when we first moved to Agoura Hills, and the blooms were still on the rose bushes, so to speak. I’m still so grateful to live here. I still look out my office window every morning over the rooftop of my neighbor’s house to see what the view is like. This morning it was shrouded in welcome mist, reminding me that it rained last night, and can we have some more of that rain, please?

But before I turned to this site I actually published a post on my other blog, and used a photo of my little boys jumping in the leaves a few years ago. The moment is frozen in time – they are perfectly happy, without a care in the world. And I’m glad, because that is the kind of life my husband and I dreamed about when we moved here. Not that we couldn’t rake up a pile of leaves in Northridge, but you know what I mean.

Here’s the photo.

And this is the post, in case you want to read it (just click on the excerpt). It’s an essay in reaction to some of the articles floating around the internet lately about what stay at home moms do all day – partially from my point of view, and partially from a working dad’s.

I urge readers not to take the bait. Parenting is hard no matter how you do it. The only people who are lounging around in “luxury” are the children, because that’s the whole point.