Being a stay at home mom may come with a lot of perks… but we are missing the things that are great about having a “real” job.
We don’t get breaks, lunch hours to fuck around, drama-whoring coworkers to laugh at (actually.. on second thought, maybe that one), no paid vacation and DEFINITELY no sick days.
That was the only thing that I miss about being in the actual workforce: paid.days.off. And almost always used when I wasn’t actually ill.
With kids, we all know there are no days off. You’re “on the clock” so to speak for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and every damn day of the year for 18 years… sometimes more depending upon how much of a leech your crotchfruit is.
I get plenty of “me” time, the kids, thank the sweet baby jesus, are decent sleepers- but what I really want… what I really crave.. is ALONE time. OUT OF THIS HOUSE.
I spent so much damn time trapped in this house because the thought of taking two psychotic children out in public alone exhausts me so much that I never do it, that I rarely ever get out. I’m stuck here, with them, ALL.THE.TIME.
Usually I handle it well. It doesn’t even bother me. I’ve become a recluse and a hermit and most days I rather like it… but there are days where suddenly the walls begin to close in, the children are screaming and fighting, and the husband is being a complete douchey fucknut and I start to panic.
Suddenly my insides are screaming for me to run away and join the traveling circus.
How did I get myself into this? Who was the idiot who talked me into getting married to this asshat and having these two demon children? Oh that was ME? FUCK ME!
It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, everyone needs to look out. And the problem is that i’ve done a fantastic job at being a hermit because my frantic texts to friends telling them to save me before I smother my husband really do nothing but confirm the in their minds that I am a psychotic old housewife who likely shouldn’t be allowed to be around other functioning adults.
If you can’t tell by now, today was that day for me. I feel broken. Twitchy. Sweaty and panicky. And irritable. Especially irritable.
I fully believe that in order to properly care for our children and not smother our significant others- us moms need to GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM on occasion. Maybe even a frequent occasion. Even if just for an hour or two.
I’m calling in a mental health day to work. I hope the bosses don’t mind.
Dear people writing articles on ways to get siblings to get along, I'll save you the time. The answer is "Don't let them play together"
Please stop Complimenting my kids’ “Good” Behavior goo.gl/fb/rwfojS
Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.