Room For More

This is a long one, but if you’re a stay at home mom, just read…it’s not like you have anything better to do.
It’s Monday again, except this is the Monday after I found out that I didn’t get that job I thought I would get. So this is the first Monday I am feeling like a lazy ass for not putting my resume in for review at a million different places.
This is the first Monday of guilt and the start anxiety attacks.

Of course, I don’t want the anxiety attacks and I had gone a long time without them, but I can feel them coming on. I saw the mail sitting on my catch-all and I started to shake a bit. BILLS.
I have the money to pay for them. I will pay for them. That’s not the problem. The problem is the first time something financially gets messed up, I’m going to freak out. I’m going to freak out because if I were working, THAT wouldn’t have happened. There is a good chance THAT won’t even happen, but I’m like a beaten dog when it comes to ‘not working’.

Many of you are Stay At Home Mothers. (and stay at home fathers) There are two things you face when you are a SAHM.
You get the people that work that look down at you for staying home. I don’t know WHY this happens, if it’s guilt or jealousy that the person that is working feels guilty that they don’t get to spend time with their kids. It’s harsh though, that feeling of people looking at you and thinking, “Get a job bitch.” and they do. Some are even vocal and ballsy enough to say it, “Well she needs to get a job, stop staying home and doing nothing all damn day and stop mooching off her man.” (yes, this has been said about me, yes it hurt and if ANYONE dare say that again I will hire The Fonz to shoot them in the head at close range.)

Or you fall into the, “I am a SAHM” club of insanity because you try to justify staying home by being a super parent; doing the cheer practice, softball, soccer, pta, drama club, bake sale, teachers aide and baby gym. Don’t forget the million trips to the park. You do this because you don’t people to be able to say you don’t do anything all day. You’ll be divorced in 5 years if you try to do all that or try to justify being a SAHM. Why? you’ll feel like you do everything and he does nothing. Yes, he goes to work, but he gets to spend all day with adults while you spend all day, everyday with the kids, driving them EVERYWHERE. He gets home and you just want to drop the children in his lap and go to bingo. (oh wait, that was me.)

I’m not going to try to justify shit. I am going to do what I can, while I can and if someone decides to talk shit about me being home then it’s time to reload the gun. *

The Fonz was a stay at home mom. I knew that every morning she was going to walk into my room and threaten my life to get me out that bed. She was going to pour me a bowl of cereal and she was going to push me out the door kicking and screaming.

I knew when I was at school she was at home. I didn’t know what she was doing, but I knew that if I got sick or hurt I just had to call. I also knew that the school could call her if I acted up and she would be down at that school in 15 minutes to kick my ass.

She was home when I got home. Always. This was the smartest thing my mother could have ever done, being home when I got home. I couldn’t go over to a friends house after school and get stoned, I didn’t dare get stoned because she would have caught me. I was a sneaky girl, but my mom knew every single thing I ever did…and you want to talk about rope and hanging myself? I think she would give me enough JUST to see me hang myself. Then she would stand there and watch me dance on my tip toes. She would then cut the rope and I wouldn’t make that same mistake twice.

I didn’t realize how much mom being home effected my life until I was a SAHM. I also didn’t realize what hard work it was.
It’s frustrating and painful. It’s also really damn cool too.
I don’t know if I can be a SAHM again. I want to for awhile. I like being here when the girls leave from school. I like being home when it’s nice and quiet. I like picking them up from school and seeing their faces all rosey and hair all messed up from a day of playing and learning.

But,

I have got to lay down some rules for myself or I am going to be an anxiety ridden mess.

When I was out of work before I told myself that I would go back to work after summer when the kids went back to school. I did. It’s now 10 weeks before summer again. I need to set a deadline.

I need to shower EVERY MORNING.

Everyday I have to learn something new.

I must paint this house. One of the main reasons my house is starting to look like a crack dealer lives here is because i’m never home to do anything with it. If I am home, i’m on a project EVERY DAY.

Walk, I MUST GET OUT AND WALK.

I need a support group. I need to know that I am supported for my time at home, however short or long that may be. I need to know that I’m not going to hear, “get a fucking job.” I hate killing people, I really do.

I want to be that 50’s house wife at least 3 times a week. I want to make dinner, be all dressed up (and drunk by noon)

Anyway, I have a road ahead of me. I won’t be able to stay at home for long…cause well I will go crazy and lock the children in the dryer because they were singing to loudly.
I will not take advantage of this time spent at home with those little fucking rug rats though.

And now, today’s mission. FIND MY BEDROOM. I know it’s at the end of the hall to the left, but once that door opens it looks like Old Navy exploded.

*I had to delete a blog from my list of blogs I read everyday. I hated doing this because I really use to love this blog.
Being home now, and excepting the fact that I am home I can’t read bitter blogs.
It seems to me that lately people are getting bashed for being parents. You could be the best mom in the world and you’re going to get slammed by someone for something.
I understand getting pissed. I would be pissed to if someone dared say I was a bad parent. I mean, I’m not the best parent; I bite my children. I make fun of my children. I feed them corndogs 2 days out the week. I scare my children when they round a corner. I get mad and yell and cuss and sometimes I’m late picking them up from school.
No one is perfect. Not me, not you…and not even the Fonz. People are going to talk shit and if we chose to keep blogging through all of it, we can’t stay bitter. It ruins your blog.
I’m hoping to be able to go back to this blog in a couple of months and have this person not so angry. (no, this isn’t pissy britches…because she’s sposta be that way, it’s what makes her blog so fun to read.)