For the love of all that's holy I am so freaking tired. Pflaahh! I mean seriously. I get a little sick of people referring to what I do as "Stay at Home Mom" (Yes, I know that I even have it listed on my profile. Enough! I'm changing it.). A dog stays at home. Cats, stay at home. Women at home who are taking care of a child/children do not simply stay at home. They work their effing asses off. That's my new title. Mom working her ass off in the vicinity of where she also happens to sometimes sleep. MWHAOITVOWSAHTSS for short.
I got two and half hours of sleep last night and picked up poop off the floor today with my BARE HANDS! (Too much information? Too bad! If I have to do it, you have to read it.) I was talking to a girlfriend of mine the other day (really she's just an acquaintance, but friend sounds so much nicer) and she told me about how her husband wouldn't take night shifts with their colicky baby because he didn't want to be "mentally exhausted for WORK the next day." What the hell.
I feel that we live in a time where motherhood isn't valued as highly as it ought. What I do, is work. It's exhausting, mind-numbing, stressful, all-consuming, never-ending, thankless work. It's also exhilarating, joyful, endlessly rewarding, and unbelievably fulfilling. Usually all at the same time. Which is part of what makes it so damn difficult. The highs, the lows, the flatlining, you really never know what you're going to get. It's not rational. There is no "schedule". I'm unappreciated and loved beyond my own comprehension by the same people at the same time. At the end of the day I have nothing left. And yet, there really isn't an end of the day.
I cook. I clean. I pick up poop. I nurture. I teach. I comfort. I love. I read. I play. I don't pee alone.
So don't tell me I'm a stay at home mom. I work. And I want a raise.