Today, a woman asked me what I do. I gave her baleful stare as my two sons alternately clung to me, jumped off of me, whined, and were your general, well, little boys.
I told her I stay home. “You are so lucky!” she trilled.
True, I am privileged to get to be home with the kids, but as any stay-at-home mom knows…there’s a lot about the job where the word “lucky” just doesn’t apply.
Staying at home for me means being a mom first, then topping off the day with a laundry list of chores, including the namesake laundry, dishes, errands, grocery shopping, cooking, LAUNDRY (it is never done), and about forty six other tasks. The difference about being a mom who works outside the home is that if I did not get to the laundry list, I didn’t sweat it–hey, I was at work. I didn’t feel the sense of guilt that descends now when I don’t get the work done. I feel a pressure, self-induced and societal, to be hyper productive since I’m in the home the majority of the day.
Truth is, this is the hardest work I’ve ever done. If you know me, you know I’ve had some…how do I put this delicately…challenging positions, but they pale when compared to the MOUNTAINS of laundry that face me every morning.
Did I mention, the laundry is never finished?
I love my job, I appreciate my job, and I———–
Sorry, got to run. A load needs to be moved from the washer to the dryer.