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From the moment I became pregnant for the first time, I knew I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. I was only leaving behind an office job, and I'm pretty sure my salary was only paying for take-out and beer, so we would not miss the money I was making.
I couldn't wait to be with the baby all day, and I romanticized everything about the prospect. We would nap together, take walks together, shop together; and I would take care of the home, do arts and crafts, maybe even learn a new language in my spare time!
Are you laughing yet?
If you have children, you are laughing about what I just said. I would bet my left boob you are.
How unrealistic the whole "stay at home" idea is in general. The biggest reason being: Not everyone has the personality that is conducive to being fulfilled as a stay at home mom.
That would be me. My personality screams: "Don't stay home with your child! Go out into the world! With people! And changing your tampon in private! And hot lunches! And using your brain! And people! PEOPLE!"
The moms out there in this world who stay home, love it, feel fulfilled, and don't mind playing with blocks for hours on end are so lucky it comes easy. That peace has not been something I could learn or force. My staying home years started feeling like a life sentence.
Saying I've struggled as a stay-at-home mom would be an understatement. There are multiple aspects of this position that have been mind-altering difficult for me. I love my girls and we've had more good times than bad during the years we've been home together. But it hasn't come naturally.
I really missed the office I worked in. I had a mildly important position, was a team leader, went to meetings and took conference calls. I had a gaggle of friends who I ate lunch with every day and went to Happy Hour with on Fridays. Out comes baby, and I was so bored at home I thought I would die. I was lonely, Chloe hated her stroller, so no walks. She didn't sleep very well so no romantic naps together, and she cried while I shopped. I didn't know what to do with myself.
I think I'm more selfish than I realized. I want my time. I want to be able to do things when I want. Back when my girls were babies, I had a very hard time structuring my schedule around nap times, feedings, bed times, etc. I did structure my life around all of those things, but then I felt resentful. I've been home with the girls for nine years now, so obviously I've grown a bit and matured a little. Only a little. Chloe is home sick today and I had a list of errands to run, and I had to use every ounce of mental strength to not send her to school drugged up on Ibuprofen and Mucinex and say, "Shake it off, babe."
I hate that being a stay-at-home mom also makes me maid, cook, launderer, bill-payer, errand runner, shopper, appointment maker, etc. I didn't sign up for all of that, you know? It seems when you are home with children it is expected for you to either grow three more sets of arms to get things done, or clone yourself. I was unable to do either, so I've struggled.
After I had Chloe, I put a lot of pressure on myself to keep the house straightened and cleaned. After I had Em, who had reflux and projectile vomited on everything we owned, I began to realize I can't keep up with everything and stay sane. After I had Macy, I just stopped cleaning all together. Now we do the "Visitors are Coming" cleaning.
I've had a couple of OCD spurts, thinking if everything is always in its place I will feel in control and satisfied and it will appear like I'm actually doing something with my life. My poor husband has suffered the hellish wrath of Jenny if, god forbid, he didn't put the remote back where it belonged. I would get up off the sofa just to fix the window blinds or straighten a picture. If Erik left crumbs on the kitchen counter, I was borderline Lorena Bobbitt.
Erik and I have had so many fights over my situation. He wanted to be supportive and understanding, and he wanted me to be happy and non-Medusa-like, so he would tell me it would be ok if I went back to work. I would reply with "There is NO WAY I would leave the girls just because I'm not fulfilled being home." I just couldn't do it. But I would complain and vent, and Erik would make the same offer, and I would say the same thing. There was no right answer.
So I thought of it as a sacrifice. I would sacrifice my fulfillment so my girls could be home.
I was resentful so many times when I would hear about women who could afford to stay home with their kids, but tried it and couldn't hack it. They missed their jobs, or they weren't happy. Who were they to put themselves first when I've been on the sacrificial alter for years? My emotions, mental state, intelligence...me...sacrificed. I gave up so much of who I was to be home with my kids, but other women could walk away so easily.
It took me a while, but after time I realized my resentment was really envy. I wished I could have cut off my feelings and put ME first.
I became Erik's wife, Chloe's mom, Emily's mom and Macy's mom. Jenny was nowhere in sight.
Macy started all day kindergarten this year. I miss the girls and I can only hope the last nine years of emotional ups and downs will pay off. I hope when the girls are adults they will do "remember when" about fun things we did, and not about how psychotic I was at times.
I'm sad it's all over, and I regret not doing it all better. But, I'm also excited about the new chapter we are beginning. I have time now to miss them during the day, so I appreciate them more when they get home from school. We have shopping and movie days, and if Erik's working late the "girls" go out for dinner. I feel more at peace than I have in a long time.
I've had some issues going on with an organization I do work for, and it's kept me super busy the last couple of months...since Macy started school, really. I can't wait until things slow down and I have more time.
There's someone I've lost touch with and I can't wait to spend time with her and get to know her again.
That someone is me.
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