SAHM vs Working Mom

This post is a response to a candid posting by my very favorite blogger from It's a Dog Lick Baby World.  (If I met her in a grocery store I would totally stalk her. )

Kara wrote in her view staying at home with her child is a "pretty sweet deal".  This response started as a comment on her page, but then it got too long so I decided to make my own post and not word dump on hers.  While I do agree with most of her points, all humorously made, I'm not sure I agree with it. 

For backround, I'm a working mom on a compressed schedule, which means I get every other Friday off and have 9 hour work days.  As much as I value my Friday's with the B, spending the whole day with her can be overwhelming.  Here are some reasons why I think staying at home is harder than working.

1. The B doesn't like it when I sit down, so I have to be up and running with her almost all the time.  At least at work I get to sit down even though I am fielding phone calls and receiving/writing nasty-grams. (+1 point to SAHMs)
2. At work I can prove my points with facts and data.  Whereas at home, no amount of reasoning can convince a toddler to stop throwing food on the floor, or that screaming won't make the diaper change any faster. (+1 point to SAHMs)
3. At work you get recognition and appreciation from the people you support and work for and with in the form of words and money.  At home, you just get bitten and the occasional smile.  Although, I must admit that hugs from the B just melt my heart. (-2 points to SAHM)

Plus all of the difficulty at home may be my own fault.  I insist on:

1. Making organic foods for the B
2. Using cloth diapers
3. Being pretty indulgent about getting her what she wants as quickly as humanly possible because I can't stand listening to her whining and screaming.
4. Feeling guilty that I'm not able to give her 100% of my attention when I am with her

My husband and I have been talking about having a 2nd child.  In this case I might stay at home because we would not net that much after the cost of 2 kids in childcare.  I would hope that the guilt factor would go away, and maybe her acting out is just because she doesn't get to see me that much during the week?  Who knows.

Anyway, my conclusion is this: I believe that SAHMs do have it as hard as working moms.  It's just a different kind of hard.

I'm a Domestic Failure

This morning as I was trying to get my brain to wake up, I scrolled through my Facebook news feed and came across an essay Your Childern Want YOU! a friend recommended.  In a nutshell the essay says that our kids love us the way we are and don't care if we can't and don't do all the things the Pinterest-Domestic-goddesses do.  At least that is what I took away from it.  As I read the essay I got that warm oozy happy feeling that I shouldn't feel bad and sent my butt to work.

This is something you should feel good about.
You can go about your business.

Then approximately 2 hours later this huge cloud of guilt settled over my head.  I was thinking, what the heck?  What did I do wrong today?  Nursing my guilt over my second cup of tea (same teabag, so yuck), I realized that I originally had no guilt about not living up to the Pinterest-Domestic-goddess.  But now that I know I was supposed to feel bad, I'm suffering from the guilt of not feeling guilty.  Honestly, I didn't really think about it before.  I have a huge mountain of clothes, both dirty and clean, beside the bed.  With the exception of the B's room, there is nothing adorning our walls.  The same IKEA curtains that came with the house are still hanging, slightly grey now. 

And then I realized it, I'm a domestic failure.  Well, crap.

I'm blissfully oblivious to my mother's shortcomings.

At least the B still likes me, for now.

San Diego Zoo: Entry #743 in the List of Bad Ideas

I was feeling ambitious last Friday since hubby and I both had the day off.  I thought, wouldn't it be fun to take the B to the zoo?  She loves the animals in her books, so wouldn't it be a treat to see them in person?  Sounds great, right? 

The plan in my head:

1. Leave around 11 so the B will nap during the 3 hour drive down to San Diego
2. Spend the afternoon at the zoo
3. Have dinner at the hotel
4. Have the B sleep in the pack and play
5. Go for a swim at the hotel
6. Drive back home during her nap

This is what actually happened:

1. We couldn't get our act together, packing and booking a room etc.
2. Packed during the B's nap
3. Hubby needed a nap after the B's nap so I took the B to the park
4. Met up with the mama's at the park and joined their egg race (this part was fun)
5. Left the house at 6pm (wow, 7 hours after the plan)
6. The B complained the whole drive down (which means intermittent screaming)
7. We had to wait 30 minutes before they finally brought the pack and play to the room
8. Overtired B screamed for 30 minutes before she fell asleep
9. B woke up at 2am and WOULD NOT GO BACK TO SLEEP
10. Brought the B into bed with us and I got kicked for a couple of hours before I moved to sleep in the foot of the bed

What happened next deserves it's own paragraph...  After all that we finally made it to the zoo and that is when the disaster began.  The B cried so hard and for so long while fighting her nap, that the zoo security came over to kick us out.  The security guy gave us 15 minutes to calm her down or we would have to take the shuttle to the front.  Yes, it's true, the B almost got us kicked out of the zoo.  She finally went down and adverted the crisis.  Even after she woke up happy, the animals were only the slightest bit interesting to her.  She was more interested in the flora and other kids.  And did I mention that she pooped on the hour every hour...  such a delight carrying around poopy diapers.

Look Bonnie!  It's a rhino!

Whatever Mama, that was so 20 seconds ago.

Lessons Learned:

1. Don't make plans, time with a toddler hardly ever goes according to them anyway
2. Don't take the B anywhere outside of 30 mile radius from home unless we absolutely have to
3. Use disposable diapers during trips
4. No matter how late B goes to bed, she will wake up that much earlier in the morning

The funniest quote of the weekend, "You call that, crying?", said by hubby to a random crying toddler strollering by.