SAHMer Glamour

When I was a kid I often wondered why my mother would work outside the home.  My dad made enough to keep us comfortable.  This was obvious to me even at young age.  What wasn’t explicable, though, was why my mom didn’t want to just hang out at home and play with my sister and me.

Now here, some thirty odd years later, I totally understand. 

I spent my day cleaning while a tiny tornado of a shadow alternated between tearing up what I’d just accomplished, and sitting on my lap so that I couldn’t do anything.
I had to keep from gritting my teeth as I told her that, no, I could put the sheet on the bed by myself.  At the time I was leaning over one side, as she dangled persistently on my skirt.  I got 7 cups of water, but didn’t drink an entire one myself.  I washed dishes, as my “helper” repeatedly threw all the clean silverware back into the soapy water.
I am tired. 

No, I’m exhausted – more drained than I ever knew I could be when I was younger.  I used to party ‘til dawn, but was never as worn out as I am after a day with a two year old. 

Yep, I get it now, Mom. 

And you know what.  I’m sorry for all those times that I stood at the window crying and waving at the window in hopes that you’d feel guilty enough to turn around and come home.  Because now I know just how much the time away meant to you.

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8 thoughts on “SAHMer Glamour

  1. It is so amazing that people can criticize parents who stay home with their kids. That they don’t do anything or whatever. It is hard, exhausting work. Emotionally and physically. Sometimes you want to run away. I know. Tomorrow, though, she will say something funny like “tofu” and you will be so glad that you are there to hear it.

  2. You are so right. I just really needed to write that last night.

    This morning I walked in to the bedroom to find her sticking her dialysis catheter in her eye. When I asked her what in the world she was doing, she told me, “Sticking in my eye, Mom.”

    Why did I even ask?

  3. Not me. I never wanted to be at work when my kids were little. I had worked long enough that I knew that sometimes the only interesting thing at work was the coffee break. When they were school age, I worked part time, then full time when they were on there own.

  4. It is tough work, but I’m glad I did it when my kids were little and even though my mom could be a real bitch sometimes (looking back I think she realized what little value society placed on her status as “sahm”), I liked that she was home when we were little. There was always something good to eat and she was always there to hear about my day at school. She read stories, took us to the park and the beach and let us fingerpaint in the kitchen. She made memories that she and I ( and my siblings) can share together.

  5. Those are the kind of memories that make it worth it. I really do love hanging out with Kajsa.
    Just sometimes, I truly long for a day of solitude.

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