How can things like vacuuming cracker crumbs two billion times a day, accidentally stepping on squishified bananas, playing peek-a-boo and throwing cakes in the pan periodically throughout the day, while the faint sound of random nursery rhymes loop in the background from deep inside of the toy box from a toy that just won’t die-
describe me, living my dream?
How or why would one look forward a lukewarm, end-of-a-long day bath where you will be cramming your head at an angle to fit underneath the hot-wheels track suctioned to the tiles as it drips freezing cold water onto your shoulder, as you lay there gazing up at all of the places that you must have missed with your new scrubby tool while you were cleaning the previous day? (Not to mention the colorful plastic toys floating around your face.)
How can I stay here all day, and why would I look forward to any of that?
I guess we could assume that I must just be an uneducated, government sucking, lazy, woman.
Or, it could be that years ago, my husband and I seriously discussed whether or not my desire to stay at home with the kids was something we could make happen.
It could be that we have chosen to compromise on some things for this to be plausible.
It could be that this ‘job’ completes me and meets my personal needs. I feel accomplished and fulfilled.
My addiction was allowed to steal too many memories; I had missed so many milestones already.
It could be that for me, my sobriety changed the course of my future, that included my goals, desires, plans.
It could be that my definition of personal success for myself, is exactly what I am where I am right now.
It could be that you just don’t know.
and it could be that it just shouldn’t matter to you.
To the working mommy, there are some things that I want you to know.
I respect you. Why you choose to work or why you have to work is really none of my business.
Frankly, I don’t care that you work outside of the home.
It makes no difference to me whatsoever.
It could be that when you casually mention that you work outside of your home, I don’t have any negative or catty things floating around in my head.
It could be that I choose not to categorize you.
It could just be that none of that defines your whole person.
It could be I choose to believe that you are a perfectly imperfect, fantastic mom.
I think we could all stand to take our own opinions and assumptions about this particular nitpicky battle a little bit less seriously.
My family operates in a way that works for us and our situation and this is what we feel like we are suppose to be doing. I am living out my journey in the way that is the best for me, and for our family.
-and you are doing the same.
We might just have a lot more in common than you might think.
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