Secrets of Stay-at-Home Moms
I'm going to let you in on a little secret: Not every
day as a stay-at-home-mom
is hard. In fact, there are some days, some rare and wonderful days, when it's a downright breeze.
We all know the joke about housewives, bonbons and soap operas. And I'm right there with you acting all disgruntled when it's even suggested that our days are spent getting fat and happy in front of the TV. But the truth is, some of my days do
look like that. Some days, when the planets and nap times are in alignment, I sit down in the middle of my dirty living room, amidst piles of unfolded, clean laundry
, with a cappuccino (which I have, of course, made in the microwave from a powder mix in a paper envelope) and a bag of Milanos. And I will eat all those Pepperidge Farm cookies while lounging in my lime-green sweatpants and tomato-stained T-shirt. I will also do any or all of the following:
— Ignore the tennis-ball-size dust bunny creeping from under the end table.
— Watch five episodes from season four of Scrubs.
— Read blogs for an hour and a half or, alternatively, play two hours of games on Shockwave.com
— Pile the bed pillows and comforter on the couch and take a nap.
— Not even consider showering or brushing my teeth.
Don't sit there and feign shock. I know you've done it, too. And if you haven't, what are you waiting for? The world has enough martyrs. It seems we're so focused on convincing people that what we're doing is worthwhile that we forget it's OK to enjoy your job or—horrors! —have a down day. Relax! You think your husband isn't kicking back when things are slow at work? It happens.
But while I've gotten good at leaving the guilt behind, I'm not completely shameless about my dirty days. At about 4:30 PM, you're likely to find me running around as if my in-laws were on their way—putting pasta on to boil, popping open a jar of sauce and dumping that clean (still unfolded) laundry onto a freshly made bed.
By 5:15 PM, I'll be ready to put on dinner and a smile when my husband walks through the door. We won't talk about what I did all day, because he'll assume—as he should—that keeping this house running takes a kind of energy he can't even imagine.
Lets keep it that way, shall we?