Bitch bitch whine whine

Being a mom is a hard job. It’s hard whether you work outside the home or not. I’ve done both. I worked outside the home when my kids were babies – up until Brian was 5 and Adam was 3. I had a full-time job and a full-time nanny. I didn’t have to deal with day-care, and I had someone who took care of the home front. She made many, if not most, of the playdates, kept things organized and clean. She gave my kids baths. And by she, I meant, whomever was my nanny at any given time. Not that they were interchangeable because they certainly were not.

I always felt lucky to have both the kids and the career. I felt that one gave me perspective for the other, helped me appreciate whatever it was I was doing at any given time. I managed my time wisely. I was efficient. I made the time for working out at the gym. I made the time for phone calls and maintaining a social life. I made the time to shop for myself and keep myself in fabulous clothing.

I feel lucky now that I don’t have to work. I have more time for myself. I could never maintain the yoga practice that I maintain if I were working while mothering. Mothering school-age children/pre-teens is quite different from mothering babies. With the babies, my essential task was to nurture. That came quite naturally to me.

With schoolage kids, my essential task is to stay organized while juggling numerous small, not-engaging tasks. Given my propensity for compulsiveness and add to that a difficulty transitioning from one task to another (as a big-firm corporate lawyer, I usually worked on one transaction at a time for months and months on end), well, let’s just say that I find myself swimming in the undertow zone. And I have never been even remotely a strong swimmer. Essentially, this job I currently have is not one that emphasizes my talents.

I just spent nearly two agonizing, angst-filled hours organizing my family’s schedule for the next two months. Baseball practice for each kid once per week, baseball game for each kid once per week. Not always on the same day and certainly not always in the same place. Baseball clinic for Brian once per week (in addition to regular practice and games). Lacrosse practice and games for Adam, sometimes more than twice per week, and almost never on the same day or time, and all the hell over Westchester County. Religious school once per week for each kid. Tennis lessons once per week for Brian. Tae Kwon Do once or twice per week for Adam if there is ever time to squeeze it in. Don’t even ask me why there is such an emphasis on sports in my household. It wasn’t my choice. It just is the way it is. Then there are birthday parties, choir practices, choir concerts, class trips that I need to remind the moms about (since I am a class mom for Adam’s class), pediatrician appointments, orthodontist appointments (twice in June, but usually every six weeks).

In all of that, I need to allot time for gardening; notwithstanding that I have a gardener, there are daily tasks that I need to do myself. For example, until the danger of frost passes here in the great green north, I have to cover my annuals with tarps at night and uncover them in the morning so they can get fresh sunlight. I’ve been shopping for perennials too, because perennials come and go, and you have to buy them when they’re available. Luckily, most of the perennials I’ve been looking for have already been available, so I am almost done with the task of filling the garden beds, hopefully for a long time to come. Almost, but not quite.

Then there is keeping a social calendar, which I almost cannot bear to do, since most of the time, I am too exhausted to even talk…about anything but yoga.

And I don’t have a maid, and except for me, everyone in this household tends to leave the toilet seat up. My younger son is currently grooving on the notion of being dirty. And by dirty I mean disgustingly putridly dirty, as in, taking his socks out of the laundry to wear the again, just because he likes to make them as smelly as he can. Don’t even ask me how he managed to go an entire week without changing his underwear, unbeknownst to me. But I figured it out when I did his laundry yesterday. Nothing like seeing that there is not even one pair of underwear in your nine-year-old’s laundry to make you feel like a totally inadequate loser of a mother.

My nails are bitten to the quick. I discovered today that I have been given the gift of osteo-arthritis in my fingers (pray, pray, pray that it will remain in my fingers ONLY), or at least in both of my ring fingers, and therefore, it sort of doesn’t matter what my nails look like because soon my fingers will be all gnarly and gnarled anyway.

I haven’t had my hair cut since last summer.

My husband thinks that every day is like a day at Canyon Ranch for me.

It’s not. It’s hard. Because no one ever thanks me for anything. And no one even realizes that I’m actually working. And no one would probably notice if I didn’t do the work. But I would. And even so, sometimes, I can barely do it. And sometimes I do it badly, like today, for example, when a mom called me to tell me she was rescheduling her son’s birthday party from tomorrow to next Saturday, and I realized that I hadn’t been aware of the fact that there was supposed to be a birthday party tomorrow in the first place. Just a few minutes ago, I dug out the invitation from the abyss that is my inbox. Or the abyss that was my inbox, until that little reality check.

I know that if I had a job outside the house, thus creating a need for a nanny, thus creating a situation where I am thanked for my hard work, thus creating perspective on either side of the equation, I’d be way less stressed out. Even with working. Even with having a boss. Even with practicing less. But I just can’t. I just simply can’t. It would be better for me. But I won’t.

And that, my friends, is the definition of “neurosis”.

YC

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8 Responses to Bitch bitch whine whine

  1. Yogamum says:

    Oh boy, do I identify with what you just wrote! I have recently taken on a part-time job teaching Spanish but of course all of the other things you wrote about still have to be taken care of…by me… Well, except the housecleaing, I do have a cleaning lady. I don’t think it is too much to ask the kids to start pitching in and being aware of what you do for them. I’ve started saying things like, “You know, I spend X hours a week driving you places, and it does take a lot of my time and energy. I’m happy to do it, but would you think about how you might contribute and help out?” My kids (9 and 12) are starting to realize that they can make things a lot easier by pitching in — cleaning out the car, helping with dishes, sorting their dirty laundry, etc.

    I agree that it is ironic that you might get more appreciation if you went back to work. BUT you are giving of yourself to your children and I can’t help but think that that is making such a huge difference to them in the long run.

  2. Yoga Chickie says:

    Thanks Yogamum. I appreciate the empathy.

  3. cranky housefrau says:

    your husband will probably never appreciate it, but i am pretty sure your kids will at some point. my mother stayed home with my sister and i, and i am accutely aware of how much work that was and i appreciate it very much. that may be because i am a stay at home mother myself. but anyways, even if the kids don’t appreciate it, you get the high five from every other mother who has stayed home with her kids, and YOU know you are doing the right thing by them.

  4. Carl says:

    Since your filth-monster is only 9 years old, he has some time before girls might become effective at influencing him to keep clean. Maybe an interim solution would be to demand he wear pajamas to supper and produce the set of clothes that he wore before he’s allowed to sit down to eat. And then you drizzle soap on the clothes before dumping them in the laudry bin.

  5. Lisa Dozier says:

    hi- I am a SAHM of an 18 , 13 and 2 yo! I totally understand – was a head nurse of a 16 bed ICU and took turns being an administrator over 8 ICU units in a large teaching hospital. I also had 3 medical directors over me that were craaaaaaaaaazzzzy. That job was a piece of cake compared to being a full time Mom. I usually want to resign daily! LOL My eldest has been playing baseball for years , travels all over in the summer and am hoping he gets a scholarship. I found your blog as I recently began doing ashtanga yoga and love it. Keeps me from becoming totally insane! My kids would disagree. I was just going back to work when I at 44 found out I was pregnant! EEK- but I would not trade him- nice to have 1 child that is happy to see me!
    Hang in there! Lisa

  6. LI Ashtangini says:

    LOL, what is it about 9-year-old boys that they LOVE to be dirty? My 9-year-old future step-child is disgusting all the time! I’m somewhat relieved to see it’s just him and not his mom. I was beginning to think she just didn’t care, but perhaps she does care and he just likes to be dirty! I don’t tolerate the dirtiness in our house, but then again I only see him every other week. Stay at home moms have it TOUGH, there is no rest for the weary!

  7. Yoga Chickie says:

    Ha! Sonia, I take a bath every morning and a shower or another bath every afternoon. My children think I have a problem, which I probably do. It is the exact OPPOSITE problem my smelly, drrrrrrty son has. I like to be clean, clean, clean! Maybe this is his small pre-teen rebellion?

  8. LI Ashtangini says:

    I don’t know but I remember my little brother being dirty ALL THE TIME at that age. Like, grossly dirty with dirt in his ears and fingernails and toenails and every other crevice. My mother used to have fits to get him to bathe. And he would PRETEND to bathe then come out of the bathroom in the same condition! It’s funny because the other FSC is very clean. He loves to take baths and showers, usually at least twice a day. Is it a birth order thing?

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