“What is a Stay-At-Home Mom Worth?”
This is an article I’m sure we’ve all seen a million times. The article, in various forms, seems to circulate around on Facebook fairly regularly. I clicked on it and found it interesting the first time I saw it, but now I’m like, “who cares? It’s not like anyone is ever gonna pay us for this, so what’s it matter??”
The article talks about how, on any given day, SAHMs take on the role of chef, chauffeur, tutor, maid, stylist, coach, nurse, blah blah blah blah blah blah, and that if you add it all up, they (we) should make approximately $115,000 per year.
I’m a stay-at-home mom. There’s no doubt it’s exhausting, and there’s no doubt I do ALL of those things, but here’s the deal: I don’t think I’m tired from doing ANY of THOSE things.
I’m tired from doing a DIFFERENT set of things (because honestly, being a chaueffer, and driving around in a QUIET car all day, sounds kinda nice)
Now, when I throw my weary body onto the couch at 8 PM each night, and watch exactly 25 minutes of Homeland, before I begin to nod off from sheer exhaustion, it’s because:
I’ve cleaned the same square foot…you know, the one directly underneath my son’s high chair, 18 times today.
I had to shovel my kid’s poop out of my friends backyard…because he squatted and TOOK a POOP in their yard…and then stepped in it. So I had to clean his socks, too.
I had the audacity…the sheer nerve…to run to the bathroom. And while I was gone, my baby dumped a milkshake on his head.
I’ve hunted for someone’s shoe 60 times today. Someone’s sippy cup 33 times. Someone’s pacifier 19 times. And still counting.
I had to have a conversation that went like this: “How would you feel if someone said that to YOU?” “No one would ever say that to me” “I know, but just if they DID, how would you feel?” “No one ever would, so it wouldn’t matter”. “But if someone DID, wouldn’t your feelings be hurt, and so you probably shouldn’t say that to someone else?” “No one ever would, so my feelings couldn’t be hurt”. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SON….just don’t tell your brother his head looks like a potato, ok??
I had to explain that the word is “vagina,” not “pa-china,” but at any rate, you don’t need to walk around saying it, m’k?
I broke up a fight over a styrafoam cup. And then an abandoned tic-tac discovered under a couch cushion. Because all three children coveted BOTH of those things.
I had to pause from THAT to look for a shoe, a pacifier, and a sippie cup. Again.
It took 30 minutes to get from the front door to the car, and it required one band-aid, one diaper change, one fresh pair of shorts, two time-outs, three apologies, and one very strong desire for a stiff drink. Alas, it’s only 9 am.
My baby said “ashza mice babana.” When I asked him, three times, to SAY IT IN A WAY THAT MAKES SENSE, he repeated it the SAME way, only progressively louder. WTF are you SAYING???? Ohhhhhhh. “I want my banana”. Only now, he doesn’t anymore.
My kids hate to wear clothes that match. Or fit. So I’ve been involved in a daily battle for 7 years now.
We’ve reached our destination, and exactly none of my kids have their shoes on anymore. One can’t be found (shoe, not kid)
Yes, I’m tired, because as it turns out, it’s possible for a story to last 25 minutes, with absolutely no time allotted for pauses, or even breaths.
Heck YEAH I’m tired, because I just spent an hour cleaning out my car, and all I have to show for it is a vehicle that got downgraded from “something may have died in here” to “still pretty freaking dirty,” and a smushed up chicken nugget on the knee of my jeans.
OMG I’m so TIRED, because the number of times on any given day that I say, “please walk to the car a little more quickly,” rivals only the amount of times on any given day that I say, “please get out of the kitchen,” which rivals only the combined number of hairs on the heads of every single person living in North America.
Oh, and I’m STILL searching for the sippy cup, the pacifier, and that damn other shoe.
So if someone wants to pay me $115,000 a year to cook and clean and stuff…well, I won’t turn it down.
But what I want to know is, how am I getting paid for all of this other shiz?
Kisses, hugs, snuggles, and a whole helluva lot of attitude?
I’ll take it.