Tuesday, December 11, 2012
I hate being a SAHM
During the time (albeit brief) before I had kids I loved working. I loved the feeling of getting that check at the end of the week, even when my work made me want to loose. my. mind. I liked working hard even when I only had an unimportant retail job and all I was doing was setting up the Christmas tree in the home decor section of the Christian book store. I liked having money to manage, even if I often did so poorly.
Fast forward ten years.
Somehow it still isn't any easier. The day after day after day of same. With no paycheck to cash, no performance review to look forward to and almost never any sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. Just more of more 24/7. When you're a Stay At Home Mom there's no "I can make it through the next hour because then I'm going home" you just make it through the next hour until Daddy comes home only to make it through the next couple hours until bedtime, only to have them climb in bed with you and pee on your sheets.
I drive myself crazy. I battle with my ideals. Fight the urge to berate myself for not having blog-worthy snacks and activities for my kids or Pinterest-perfect rooms. I constantly feel like I ought to be more organized, more put-together, a smidge closer to perfect, or at least a step or two farther away from the point of completely falling apart. I wonder, even when I occasionally win a battle, if I'm going to loose the war. I get a room clean or have a good day only to have it annihilated less than 24 hours later.
But even though it isn't easy, even though more often than not being a SAHM makes me feel like I'm constantly loosing my mind, emotionally overwhelmed and physically exhausted - this is where I want to be and what I want to be doing.
There are those moments, like today at the grocery store as I watched my boys put money in the Salvation Army kettle and ring the little red bell when I realize I am teaching them something important just by being who I am. Every time I put my change in the food bank jar, every time they put their quarters in the Salvation Army kettle they are learning to be giving. They are learning by example and in moments like these I realize more than ever that this is where I want to be.
There are those moments, like when Eli falls asleep in my arms and I breathe in the smell of him, and smell his soft skin and kiss his little nose. I try to imagine what his life will be like twenty years from now, I try to remind myself how much I'm going to miss this and I realize that this is where I want to be.
When the tantrums need to be dealt with or the ten year old version of a tantrum has to be talked out - this is where I want to be. When all the mind-blowing complexity of raising five infinitely different children is all squeezed into one getting-ready-for-school-morning - this is where I want to be. Even though there is a significant part of me that would rather grab my coffee and my lip stick and head to an office. I want to be here.