Starting (officially) April 17, I’ll be a stay at home mom. Yes, a SAHM. Ahem.
Please don’t think I’m judgmental. I’m not, really. I really and truly applaud those that have the ability to stay at home. My friend, for example, is currently raising her two boys as a stay at home mom, and she rocks it out. She’s the queen o’da flashcards, and (what should be) her living room is entirely dedicated to plastic easels and small wooden chairs. In all seriousness, her house was the first time in about twenty-five years I saw the book The Monster at the End of this Book. She’s that into kids. And I would loooooove to have the patience and nurturing skill to be that woman that so many admire.
And although it makes me hella guilty to admit it, people, I am not that chick.
I’m the girl in the office with seventy-five tasks going on at once, a cup of coffee in one hand, and a Zanax in the other. Then, in the other two hands I didn’t know I had are a stapler, a phone, and three different colored pens. (Not because I like pretty colored pens, mind you.) I’ve never not worked. I was a Soldier. I was a hostess. I’m a financial counselor for a major hospital chain. But on the other side of that, I am the girl that only knows half of the state capitals, and screws up the half she does know. I’m that girl that shudders at the idea of anything that involves the phrase “Mommy and Me,” unless it ends with “throw things at people” or “eat an entire chocolate cake.” I love hanging out with my kid, I’m just pretty sure the hospital shorted me on my cape and crown after my twelve hours of labor. And I am picturing being a SAHM as sitting in a corner, chewing on my hair, banging my head against a wall over the injustice of the invention of strained peas.
It dawns on me that I probably sound like the worst mother in the world, so I’m going to give you a little background on my recent … um … issues. First off, I love my son. If the kid needed a kidney, I’d cut mine out with a rusty spork to give it to him. That said, I’ve had to find rapid (off post) child care. Now, for those of you who aren’t familiar with military childcare, I’m not going to try and explain the unexplainable. Just know that it’s far cheaper, and usually (hopefully) reliable. Off post child care is an option that many choose. However, in an area like mine, it can be a hit or miss state of affairs. And when I say “hit or miss” I mean you pay over $175 a week to make sure your child isn’t in a shaken, not stirred situation. I realize that in the grand scheme, no price is too high to ensure your child’s safety. It is, however, too great when you are basically paying to work.
At this point, I’m clinging to the light at the end of the tunnel that is my VA benefits kicking in, and starting the summer semester with the University of Maryland. But until then? Until then? I think I’m going to have the cleanest house and most Myspace-ed account in the history of bored housewives.
Seriously, I’m clinging.