Musings of a working mom

I am the wife to a stay-at-home Dad. That means not only do I have mom guilt, I have wife guilt. That’s double guilt, and it’s a lot and it results in me just thinking about them both all day long. The whole situation leaves me with a lot of questions that will never get answered.

I wonder what the living room is going to look like when I get home.

Why is this sticky?

Damn this meeting’s running late. Do you think they’ll notice if I just leave?

Why are there 12 plastic golf balls under the radiator?

How many “doctor’s appointments” have we had this past month? I’m tired and need to sleep in.

How many times has my “train been late” this past month? I’m tired and need to sleep in.

Tamara’s in from Philly for the day! I wonder if she can meet me at 7:45am, lunch from 12:15 to 12:28 (I have a 12:30), or a drink at 5:20 to 5:45. Really want to see her, but can’t miss bath time.

When did this rubber ducky get in my purse?

What are they eating for lunch? What am I eating for lunch? Wait, it’s 4:00, should I just skip lunch?

Did I actually tell my husband to turn the slow cooker on? Do I need to tell him to turn things on?

There’s a lot of playing cards around – I see one under the bed, sticking out of a desk drawer… is my two year old learning to play poker?

Are they thinking about me? Are they talking about me?

Does my husband think of me as me when I’m not there? Or just thinking about mommy not being there?

I wonder if anyone can see the Mickey Mouse racecar tattoo through my tights.

He Must Be Getting Ready for Halloween, Because My Toddler is Starting to Scare Me.

I’m not saying he’s bad, but what I am saying is my toddler is starting to scare me a bit.

He’s approaching 2, and things are getting intense.  Our baby is no longer a baby.  A few things that are new, and horrifying:

  • He winds objects back behind his head.  He can and will throw with force.   And he looks you dead in the eye so you know he’s ready to launch.
  • He views the highchair as the enemy.  Breakfast is filled with dread.  We know he’s hungry, he knows he’s hungry, but it doesn’t matter.  He will use literally every muscle fiber to not get strapped down in that chair.  It’s a daily, soul crushing battle.
  • He can un-do a perfectly put together room in seconds flat.  I have spent hours cleaning, only for him to totally dismantle the place without blinking an eye.  The thought of putting him down and letting him loose in a newly straightened room is unnerving.
  • He won’t nap.  We were told at 24 months he’d be sleeping like 14 hours a day.  (Ha ha ha ha ha ha.)  Sleep time is the most terrifying time of all. We put him down for a nap, and he immediately protests.  His body rejects sleep as though it was poison.  His lung capacity is far greater than it ever was before, and his screams are blood-curdling.  And amazingly long lasting.

Perhaps it’s the time of the year, or the age.  All I know is that I wasn’t ready for all these sudden, unnerving circumstances.

LIES.

Everyone you know is a big fat liar. Other moms are the worst. Your own mom is probably a liar.

These are not just social media lies. These are big, fat, real life to your face lies.

These are some of the biggest ones that I’ve been tricked into believing.

People live in clean houses.

No one’s house is clean. It’s impossible. Unless you have a live in housekeeper who’s really on their game, or are my friend Eunice. She’s in PR and her husband is an attorney and they both spend a gazillion hours in their offices and have no kids, so their place might be clean. Except they live in New York City, so probably not. Told you.

People successfully do things themselves.

DIY is a big fat lie, and while I mostly blame the internet, I also largely blame HGTV and Home Depot. We tried to plant and grow grass ourselves. There are countless blog post and books on the subject. I assure you, it’s impossible. Gardening is next to impossible. I take that back – it’s possible to maintain a garden after you pay a pro thousands of dollars to create one for you and then you just weed, water and fertilize a bit. No one has ever built anything good themselves. No tile project or pergola or dog house a lay person builds is actually of quality. These, dear readers, are lies.

Kids will eat food that is remotely healthy.

Pediatrician’s probably have lied to me about so many things, but lies about food are the worst. I believe it’s my main job to keep my kid alive and healthy. Yeah, I’ve made him try broccoli probably 50 times. And carrots. And apples. And string beans. He’s not “just getting used to it”. He will not learn to like it. He knows what he likes. And that’s chips, tortillas, cookies, ice cream, and French fries.

Normal adults can do meaningful things after a full day of work.

Is anyone doing anything after eating dinner and putting the kids to bed?

Who is living their best life, experiencing the world on a Tuesday? Oh, people that don’t have jobs.

Jeans are comfortable.

Bold faced lie told to me by fashion magazines, style bloggers, every single store in every single mall, and by that annoying pulled together friend of a friend who you run into on a Sunday and they look amazing and they don’t look like they are wearing makeup but are and who is wearing an amazing sweater and trendy sneakers and perfectly tailored jeans and when you say “you look so cute” they respond by acting confused and saying “these are my Sunday comfy jeans!!!” She’s just the biggest liar of them all.

Babies aren’t afraid

My son is fearless.  Stupidly so.

He runs right into the ocean and jumps in head first.  Even when it’s bitterly cold.

He does not adhere to the proverbial “look before you leap.”

He dances like a fool to songs like “Lean on Me”, “Rockin’ Robin”, and “Dancing on the Ceiling”.

He sings loudly to songs he loves, even when he doesn’t know the words.  (He barely knows any words.)

He reaches out his hand to shake hands with strangers.  He freely gives kisses, whether you want them or not (you usually do).  He hugs kids, doctors, adults, family that he shares a moment with.  He connects.

He wears whatever is comfortable or clean or is just there lying out on the chair and literally struts with all the confidence in the world.

If he wants to watch a show, he says “show.” If he wants something, he asks.  If he wants to go somewhere he points.  If not, he says “no.”  No subtext, no second guessing.

My son is honest.  He sees a Buddha statue and says, “mama.” (okay maybe too honest.)

He’s bored, he walks away and does something else.

He’s full, he stops eating. (it’s as simple as that.)

He is open.  He’ll look you in the eye, touch your arms, sit on your lap, smile widely.

He never knows where he’s going, ever.  But, he’s super excited for the journey.

I can only wish to be so stupidly fearless.  And honest.  And care-less.  And so in the moment.

How does he have this all figured out, and he’s not even two?