There is no way I am going to sit here and whine to you about how awful my husband is because he thinks I sit on my ass all day and watch the chickens on The View cluck back and forth while Facebooking and letting the house go up in flames. He has been very tolerant thus far of my poking fun at him, and I think that’s because deep down, even though he thinks he’s perfect, he knows I’m being honest.
For the sake of being honest, I have to tell you that as not assholish as he is about me staying at home- I don’t think the fully grasps what I do all day. This doesn’t go for all husbands, or all dads- but for all stay at home parents. The day just seems like a mystery. I get it. You leave in the morning and come back at night and it looks like everything has stayed in the exact same place. Shit, some days it looks even WORSE than it did 8 hours ago and may leave you wondering what in the hell the homemaker did all day long instead of preventing the natural disaster that is now your living room. Some days even I wonder how every toy bin erupted like Vesuvius without me noticing.
making all stay at homes look bad!
Still- he HAS to know that I don’t just sit around doing nothing, right? Even if he doesn’t say it because he knows I’ll kill him- he doesn’t THINK it, does he? He only stays home with the kids, both of the kids, about once every 7 weeks and only for a few hours so I know he can’t fully comprehend everything that goes into being here constantly all the time- but still- he HAS to know I’m busy, doesn’t he?
Much to my dismay, this morning I had a doctor’s appointment. Not just any doctor- a neurologist- to test my left arm/neck for nerve damage. Long long story. I had never been before so I had no idea what this entailed or how long it would take. Due to this- I asked Thomas to stay home with Parker (Holden would be at school) so that I could be at the doctor without the little turd going apeshit. It could have been a 5 minutes appointment but I just didn’t want to take the chance.
Apparently becoming a human pin cushion takes quite a bit of time.
During the normal morning hours- we have a relatively lax routine at home. Or at least, to me it’s lax.
I exercise while he watches cartoons and then he plays for a bit. Then we get dressed, come back downstairs- I have coffee while he has a healthy morning appropriate snack. The TV goes off, and we do a little educational crap on the computer together. Then he continues with that crap (while driving me insane because he gravitates straight to the OBNOXIOUS MUSIC SECTION) while I make him lunch. Of course I do other things in between these set routine marks I have to hit- but nothing else is necessary- and I don’t expect anyone else to be able to get everything done- just the simple stuff. Sounds easy enough, right?
When I walked back in the door, it was nearly time to start making lunch. I expected Parker to be dressed and ready for the day- at LEAST. Clothes are simple! He’ll even pick out his own and make it easy on you!
What I found was Parker sitting on the floor watching cartoons still in his pajamas with an empty bag of fruit snacks sitting next to him. I asked Thomas the question I would likely spork the shit out of him for asking me- What in the hell did you DO while I was gone?? Did the child even get a SNACK?
As the story unfolded- it turned out that poor Daddy got played. Daddy had no idea what Mommy does at home all day and just let the child run the show. What do you get for a snack? Fruit snacks? Does mommy let you have fruit snacks? Yes? OKAY!
No. No Mommy doesn’t. Mommy doesn’t let him stay in pajamas all day or veg out in front of the TV for 2 straight hours either. He looked a little flabbergasted;
“But I was busy” he says.
And there it was. Finally. Validation. For all the days where time just gets away from you and you intend to do SO many things and somehow only manage to keep yourself watered and get one sock on your kid. The days where you swear up and down you’re going to bake and scrub and wash all kinds of things but look at the clock and realize you’ve somehow missed lunch.
This is why he should be so mystified by my ultimate house running abilities that I can do all of those things and STILL find time to wash his nasty ass socks and underwear, keep the the dishes clean and the children from ripping each other’s hair out.
For all of us stay at home parents and those who get shit done without enough hours in the day to do it- kudos to you all. It’s a tough ass job, but someone’s gotta do it- even if some days it seems like no one appreciates it.
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