Posts Tagged ‘Stay at Home Moms’

c with backpackFriday was my youngest’s last day of kindergarten. I was in such a hurry with thank-you cards to write, snacks to pack, checks to fill out and forms to drop off, that I didn’t take a minute, even a second, to grasp the enormity of what this means.

I’ve been waiting nine years for this. To get my time back, my life back. Next year we enter a new phase. And like it or not, this exhausting one has come to an end.

She never asked me to stay home. I chose it. I wanted it. But it wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t good at it. Sure, we had moments: we snuggled, we read books, we went to Target, got juice and sat in the cafe.

But too often I left her alone with the television, I let her play on the computer so I could talk on the phone. I ordered in friends so I wouldn’t have to play with her. I melted cheese over taco chips and called it “lunch.”

I wish I had been more attentive. I wish I hadn’t secretly been bored, tired, lonely, isolated and sometimes resentful. I didn’t feel that way all the time, but certainly enough to push the boundaries of the “I’m only human” excuse. But despite it all, despite coming verrrrry close to the edge, I’m going to miss this phase.

I’ll miss our walks to school. Just the two of us. No matter how much chaos happened over lost shoes, warm coats and clean teeth, once we stepped out on the driveway, things changed. The walk centered us. She seemed so little on those walks, I’d watch her ponytail bounce and I’d shiver with gratitude.

She’d reach for my hand — her little fingers skimming my palm and curling around my fingers. She wasn’t even aware she’d done it. But I was, every time. She needs me, she loves me, she wants me, she forgives me: I could feel it all in that little reach.

Next year she’ll walk to school with her hero, her big sister. She is elated over this, and I suspect I will be too. I hope I will be too.

Next year: Ahhhh yes or oh noooo?


Read Full Post »

I’m at the bookstore again. It’s a beautiful day outside and I’m inside, chewing pieces off a mega chocolate chunk cookie which will make me even fatter, but I don’t care because at this moment, I need a little pleasure. A little buzz. I’m hunched over my laptop in the Barnes and Noble Café forcing myself to write something, anything… just so I have something to do.

Can we just talk about how boring it is being a stay-at-home mom? I’ve spent the last eight years dying for them to be in school so I could finally be alone – and now I’m finally alone, and I have nothing to do.

I don’t volunteer at the school because when I’m finally away from my kids, I don’t want to be wrangling someone else’s. I don’t do the PTA thing because it’s just not my thing. Since my diagnosis, I don’t run or go to the gym every afternoon, which I used to do (to burn time, not calories). I should volunteer somewhere, but I only have 2 1/2 hours of free time a day and honestly, right now, I don’t have the energy.

I just can’t face cleaning my kitchen again or planning tonight’s dinner (which I’ve already done anyway: grilled chicken and salad). We don’t have money, so I can’t go spend it. I’m pretty organized, so I’ve finished all of my errands.


I called my good friend to chat, but she was too busy ironing her sheets and had to go. I’ve tried calling a few others, but I just keep getting their voicemails. Where is everybody? What ARE they doing?

I wish more mothers would own up to how boring it is to be at home. Or at least give me a hint of what else there is to do. I once whined to one of my friends about how depressed I was because I was so bored. She told me when she needs a pick-me-up, she organizes a drawer. It gives her a sense of accomplishment.


I asked another friend for advice. She looked at me like I was stupid. “Haven’t you ever heard of shopping?” she said.

When I worked, I always thought I would love being at home so I could do the things I always wanted. I thought I would learn to play the cello, write a book, lose weight, listen to NPR, meet interesting people and take up tennis. Uh, I guess I forgot there would be kids. So after years of sweeping the kitchen floor, fixing meals, wiping butts, brushing hair, grocery shopping, paying bills and making beds, my energy for the cello is diminuendo. I’m too depleted to lose weight. And the interesting people are apparently already doing something — else.


I need a cause. I need a purpose. I need a job. I can only browse the isles of Target so many times. I think the people at the B&N Café are beginning to worry about me. I might need to find another bookstore.

Somebody better give me some ideas soon or I”ll be writing more posts as boring and whiny as this one.


Read Full Post »