If I read one more bio for a stay-at-home mom I’m going to barf.
“I’m Amanda Beth Ann and I am mother to one manic depressive 3 year old, an 18 month old model, and one clinically insane, homicidal furry dog that I bought for too much money when I was single and had wine for dinner. Sometimes I still do! (giggle) I am a workout FANATIC and put my sad 3 year old and our little 18 month old meal ticket in the gym daycare while I run 7 miles on the treadmill each day. When I’m not at the gym, I am home with my babies and their nanny and our housekeeper, working on homemade, organic, gluten-free, sugar-free, happiness-free deserts that I don’t actually eat, because seriously, I am a size 2. My husband works 12-14 hours each day because I insisted that we buy a house in this neighborhood. He doesn’t mind because look at me. I have a degree in General Studies, but chose the hardest job of all, to stay at home with my children, my dog, and our help.’
Too harsh? Probably. Am I jealous? Yes, absolutely, 100%.
And there is no ‘but’ to this. I am jealous. I mean, I don’t really like furry little dogs and I would be miserable staying home and doing nothing all day.
But for real stay-at-home moms aren’t like Amanda Beth Ann. They work hard.
Heck, the weekends with my kids are totally exhausting. We are up with the sun, and then it is a sprint until bedtime to feed, clothe, and entertain everyone.
In between all that, I try to do some laundry. And sweep. Haha, just kidding, that never happens.
But doing it all day everyday is a JOB. Running a household is a JOB. It’s like two jobs together.
Yes I am so very jealous that they get to stay home with their little ones. How wonderful to get to share all those moments with your babies and never feel the pain of missing any of their ‘firsts’.
It would also be nice to be on top of all my mommy responsibilities, like making cupcakes for parties, and downgrading ‘pizza night’ to only 1 night a week instead of every night.
But I am also sure that Amanda Beth Ann wishes she had more interaction with adults and somewhere important to go so she could break in those brand new heels.
Well, with a little luck, maybe I can trade places with her in the near future.
First I’ll dig up some terrible dirt on her, like she ran over some homeless man when she was in high school and dumped his body in a ditch.
I’ll use it to blackmail her into trading identities with me. Then after a series of surgeries and careful voice coaching, we can swap lives.
Or I’ll just find a part time job at home. Hump Day!