My back is killing me. It took me all day to tidy up the house so I could host the playdate this evening. Two hours of chores took 8 because of the constant whining and “dance wif me, Mommy!” How can one resist that?
When I know I’m not going to be leaving the house – or even when I do have to go out sometimes – I don’t even bother making an effort with my outfit anymore. The point is comfort, coverage, and durability. I want to move easily, not have my bulges hanging out, and not care if the front of my shirt has Bagel Saliva Shake smeared all over it.
When I flew back to CT, I donned my Ninja Battle Gear: black yoga pants, black shelf bra cami, black long-sleeved t-shirt, black socks, black Skechers, and a navy ND baseball hat. With a black ponytail holder in my hair. It’s not that I intended to look like a cat burglar – it just so happened that all of the most comfortable clothes that covered everything and would hold up all day were black.
I call it Battle Gear because that’s what my days are like. I’m in the trenches, battling my fatigue, distraction, and guilt as I try to balance the adult tasks that must be done with the desire to just sit and watch my babies learn and grow. People always think that the stay at home mother has all this time to spend with her kids, and yes, she does, but she’s responsible for a house of cards that teeters on the edge of her precarious sanity as well. One misstep and it can all come down, settling card by card into a pile of disaster.
So anyway, yeah. I’m back in town and trying to prioritize all of the above. I managed to get the house presentable, call the accountant, do some laundry, call a business contact, pay some bills, take a shower, drink enough water, and play with the kids all before 4:30 PM. I win.
You are a winner.
And managing a household with kids is SUCH a fragile ecosystem, isn’t it? It is amazing.
My guilt as the WSM (working single mom) is taking Jackson to meet my friends for dinner so that 1. I don’t have to cook (AKA heat food in microwave); 2. Don’t have to clean up from dinner; 3. Be the sole entertainer for child; 4. Have adult conversation; 5. Not have to clean up house when child goes to bed.
BUT that also leaves no at home chores done, and a child who does not get to play with HIS toys at all that day, after being stuck in a high chair for an hour (or 2 for those horrific service dinners like last night).
I still don’t know how you do it….Suz
Reading your blog sure gears me up for having our 2nd little one around. Life as I know it will be changing drastically it sounds like. Well, I will have my Battle Gear ready as well. Thanks for all of the stories!
And why is it when father’s are home all day they find no need to do anything other than entertain the child and surf on the computer? When Mama gets home from work, SHE cooks dinner and does laundry. “You have no idea what my day was like” Daddy says. But when Mama is home all day, if she does not also get laundry done and dinner cooked Daddy is all, “You were home all day, I’m exhausted from work” Hmmmm…. another of life’s great mysteries!