Being a SAHM is Actually Easier

I think it is, in fact, easier to be a stay-at-home mom than a working mom.

There, I said it. Someone needed to, because really.

I can say this because I have been a SAHM for 12 years, since my firstborn, my daughter, was three years old (I worked part-time before we relocated from CA to WA). I had my son two and a half years later.

In that time I watched many an Oprah or Dr. Phil or The View, listening to discussions of work/life balance, tips on time management for busy moms, how to lose the baby weight, and and and...

I have read countless articles and blog posts on the topic of the so-called "Mommy Wars" (even written one or two myself), about how staying home with your kids isn't a real job, but if you work outside the home you're selfish.

I am SO OVER it. The finger-pointing and judgments.

Let's just look at it logically, shall we?

Who Are You and What Have You Done With My Daughter?

Dear 14 Year Old Girl I Call My Daughter,

Every single year something changes in you. Often it starts the month before your birthday in July. For example, when you turned 14 last year you finally began having more of an opinion on what clothes you wanted to wear. You also got very into anime.

I thought that might be the extent of the changes for this age. Boy, was I wrong!

Everything about you morphed into something different after starting high school.

During the first four months of this school year, you went from being my sweet, funny, quirky little girl, to a full-fledged adolescent with an attitude to match.

And My Heart Melted

Yesterday was my son AJ's 9th birthday.

Altogether now: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AJ!

This kid, man. He has been such a good guy these past months. Before Christmas I teased that he must be trying to get to the tippy-top of Santa's Nice List.

One day during Christmas break, he was spending most of his time hanging out with his friend who lives right next door to us. He was even planning to spend the night there.

His sister was also at a friend's house when my MIL and I decided to run to the store for a few things. This left my husband home alone.

I Need More Time

I was supposed to have more time for ALL THE THINGS when my kids went back to school after summer break.

For....

• Taking my walks
• Doing my chores
• Crocheting
• Keeping up with TV
• Making family dinners
• BLOGGING
• And.....

Things I want and need to do.

But just two weeks after school began my husband developed infection in multiple locations in his body, requiring a nine day hospitalization, including two procedures, and ongoing care at home and clinics ever since.

Ask Jen: On Motherhood, Caregiving and Time Off

Reader Question

Asked by Peggy, a fan of the Dancing in the Rain Facebook page: How do you deal with being mom, wife, caretaker, etc, with little to no time for yourself?

My Answer

I saw this on Facebook several months ago:

To which one person replied, "Not if you are a mom!"

It kind of annoyed me.

The View From Here: On Being a Jewish Mother

This week's View is very timely considering some of the awful events dominating the news this month.

It's along similar lines as Keesha Beckford's post, "Dear White Mom", published on

Bonbon Break, and further illustrates how much we parents -- no matter what we look like

or what religion we are or where in the world we live -- just want the best for our children.

The piece below was written by Gailyc of The Madness of Joy.

__________

On Being a Jewish Mother

I worry about the sensitive soul we are raising, the little boy who is scared of bugs and wants them gone, but who cries if I kill them. My heart is in my stomach most mornings as I scan the headlines. I am horrified by the recent election results in several European countries illustrating just how much of a political uptick in anti-Semitism there seems to be.  The violence in the Middle East, the anti-Semitism that feels more visible daily, rattles me.

The View From Here: I Want to be a Monster

This week my BFF who runs a weekly recipe blog came to me saying:

"I have a submission for your guest series if you feel so inclined."

And I said YES, thankyouverymuch because I failed to have

anyone signed up for this first Thursday of August!

It's like she knew.

For future reference, you guys can totally hit me up like that.

Her name is also Jennifer and her blog is Mom Rocks Mealtime.

Her post for me, though, has nothing to do with food.

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I Want to be a Monster

The city in which I live, the town in which I was born, the place I have chosen to raise my children has turned into the Thunder Dome.

It all started a year, maybe two, ago when I noticed people no longer returned my smile and wave when I give them the right away to cross the one lane bridge by my house. Soon, that bridge was covered in graffiti.

10 Reasons I'm Grateful for my Kids

Sunday is Mother's Day here in this part of the world.

It's a day when my children will act like sweet, cherubic little darlings, wait on me hand and foot, snuggle on demand and then leave me alone afterwards. I won't have to cook or clean or fold one piece of laundry, nor hunt down a lost shoe...

beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep!

Wha?? blink, blink. Oh. I was dreaming. Dang.

Pretty sure in the 13 years I've been a mom, Mother's Day has never been quite that idyllic.

I waffle every year between feeling like I should spend the day with the two beings who call me MOM and thinking everyone should just go away and leave me alone.

Thus are the constant conflicting emotions flowing through a mother's heart.

Being a mom is a HUGE part of my identity. It is the one thing I've ALWAYS known I wanted in my life, and I've been blessed with two beautiful, healthy children.

Camryn and AJ are my babies. And no matter whatever else they make me feel in any given moment, I am so very grateful for them.

Here's why....

The View From Here: On Mother's Day

Mother's Day is this weekend so I asked if someone would like to voice their perspective/opinion on this "Hallmark holiday".

Melissa of Home on Deranged stepped up. She is a writer, married mom of 2 little girls living in the DFW area of Texas. I love her clever blog title!

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Mother’s Day – An Ode to Opportunity

The first Mother’s Day I was pregnant was also the first Mother’s Day without my mother. I remember my sister and I commiserating, “I wish all these people would shut the hell up.”

At the Heart of My Journey

In the post I wrote last week about finding ME and shedding the bulk of my insecurities, there was something I didn't mention.

One of the things that helped spur me on to getting to this place.

I might have thought of it while I was writing that post, but felt uncertain about voicing it.

It might come across as macabre.

It's not as if I haven't talked about it before.

It's just....

I try so hard in my daily life not to dwell on the idea that my husband could leave me a widow due to his myriad health problems, so the longer I can go without mentioning it on the blog, the better I guess I think I'm doing with it....?

I don't know. The truth is, The thought crosses my mind daily. Sometimes it's fleeting and I shrug it off easily. Other times it sucker punches me straight in the gut and I literally have to catch my breath.

photo credit: dlemieux via photopin cc

It's a fine line I feel like I'm walking ever since Mark's arrhythmia two years ago: finding myself and becoming stronger, without pulling away from my husband. While I think I've come to a logical conclusion based on past events that I will outlive him, I never want to start acting like -- or treat him like -- he's already gone.

Mark himself has expressed that he often feels like people are just waiting for him to die, failing to see that he's still right here, trying to live his life to the fullest that he's able to. His wife can't make him feel that way. I don't want to.

I love him and want him here for absolutely as long as possible. He could be for quite some time still. We just don't know. That uncertainty is very frustrating and scary. It makes me angry and sad sometimes that this is something I can't shake, that I think about on some level every single day of my life.

So this is what I left out of that other post: that the potential loss of my spouse is one of the things that has helped motivate me to get right with myself. To figure out what really matters to me, to feel like I'm awesome all on my own.

Because in the event of Mark's death, I will NEED to know that. My kids will need to be able to look to me and see someone who's got this. Camryn and AJ need a strong and capable mom. If they lose their dad, I will have to be able to hold them up, but I won't be very good at it if I'm not already holding myself up.

It's akin to the instructions you get on an airplane about the oxygen masks. What do they always tell us? To place the mask over our own nose and mouth before our children's.

I'm speaking as someone who has been shown the very real possibility of losing her husband. However, I think even for those who don't worry about losing their spouse every day, it is a good idea to get to a place where you feel like you could handle life on your own if you had to.

The View From Here: Not a Failure

I  may be off playing, but the View must go on!

That's right, I am in California getting ready to board a cruise ship and if I were any more excited you'd wanna smack me a la Cher in Moonstruck.

I have left my family behind to play with my friend and I am not going to feel one ounce of guilt about it. I'm certainly not going to feel like a failure because I'm missing the 2nd grade music program while I'm gone.

A failure, you ask? Why would you say that?

Because it's what my guest today, Olga the European Mama, writes about.

__________

Not a Failure

Dear mom, I want you to know, you are not a failure!

I think I am reaching my limits. I haven’t slept for months. I feel empty and just so, so exhausted. I want to be left alone.

I have yelled at my children more than I am willing to admit. I said no where I should have said yes. I have nudged my little girl to hurry up, even though she just learned to walk a few months ago. I have found myself asking my children: “what do you want???” with tears streaming from my face.

Many times I have found myself thinking that I am a bad mom, a living, breathing parenting failure. But as bad as I may feel right now, I know I am not a failure.

In fact I think that I am a rather good parent. Even in my sleep deprived state I still managed to take all three of my children out for breakfast to a café one day. The next day, we made pancakes. I still find myself enjoying parenting, cuddling with my baby boy, laughing with the girls, teaching them new things.

I am even raising my children to be multilingual.

So I say to all moms: If you’re in the same situation, please know that one bad day (or even a few bad days) doesn’t make you a bad parent. In fact, if you worry about being a bad parent, you’re most likely a good one. You worry about your children’s self-esteem or what kind of adults they’ll end up to be. That’s a good sign, but sometimes you worry too much and blame yourself for pretty much everything.

Please remember: you are not a failure. You are tired. You worry. You just want to be left alone. You want to sleep. That will get better. You will make mistakes, but you will learn from them. And you will always be an awesome parent. You were never a failure in the first place.

__________

The point Olga makes about how if you're worrying about it, you're probably not a terrible parent, is very, very true. It would only be if you were indifferent, that maybe you'd be slacking in the parental department. Indifference is rarely a good thing.

Get to know Olga better, who is a "Polish mother living in the Netherlands with her German husband and three children", at her:

Blog - Facebook - Twitter - Pinterest

**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

The View From Here: The Days

I am very excited to have Colleen of The Family Pants sharing her View here today!

Colleen has written some excellent posts that just grab you and make you feel like cheering. From reading her blog, I can tell that she cares about what's right, even if it's not the most popular opinion. So I knew her perspective was one I had to have here as part of this series.

If you are a stay-at-home parent, your head will be bobbing up and down as you read. If you're not, you will surely come away with a very good sense of what it's really like.

__________

The Days

When the opportunity arose for me to stay home full-time, I started dreaming of all the ways I was going to be the best stay at home mom ever. The house would smell like lemon cake and I’d shower every day and wear nice clothes and take my kids on Maria Von Trapp-like outings. There would be singing and I’d learn to sew and shit. 

This is what happened though.

There are days when I'm ON. I'm in sync with these people and they are in sync with me and we glide through the day on a cloud singing and dancing or something. It's awesome.  It feels easy. Those days bring with them the validation that I am not messing up my kids. Good days involve seeing my kids actually share (#tear) or hearing them sing a song together and help each other out. Good are the days that I run back to the bathroom when I hear the words “I’ll wipe your butt, ok?” and am at once proud of them for helping each other and terrified that they have taken it this far.

These are the days when my house smells like lemon cake and a bluebird chirps on my shoulder.

But there are some days that are downright awful, humbling, mind numbing and completely insane. Those are the days when I find myself staring blankly at the wall waiting for rainbow unicorns to appear to break up these two as they fight. Sometimes I find myself frantically making even more play-doh with that frenzied giant smile that I get when I am over-acting the happy.  You know the smile I am talking about, right? The one where your face hurts because you are really reaching? That one.

There are the middle days that have both highs and lows. There are rainy days and cabin fever days, funny days and sad days. There are days when you want to run for the hills and days when there is no place else you would rather be. There are days when I just can’t make another craft without wanting to pull my hair out. There are days when I just want to be alone. There are days when I never want to be away from them even for a second. There are giggle days and “NO I DON’T WANT TO!” days.

There are days when I dream of what they will be when they grow up. And days when I cannot bear for them to get even one day older than they are right now. There are days when my house is clean and days when every single dish is dirty. There are days when dinner is slow-cooking all day long and there are days when I dump applesauce into a bowl and toss out a few nuggets at 7 pm.

There are days when I wake up and cannot drag myself out of bed without an act of Congress and days when I fly up out of bed giggling with my kids.

Some days start awesome and end bad. Some days start bad and end with a mercifully soft pillow-like landing. Some days are as boring as watching paint dry and other days are exciting and full of harmony. Some days require too much T.V. while others are spent riding bikes and playing in dirt.

There are good days. There are bad days. There are all the days in between.

Most importantly though, there are days. Days that will slip by and be gone before I am ready.  So I love this day anyway. Even if it sucks the high hard one.  Because nobody’s perfect.  Not even Maria Von Trapp. Least of all me.

But then again, I’m not aiming for perfection anymore. 

__________

This right here is EXACTLY it.

I don't know how it could be described better.

But I do know you need to get to know Colleen better!

Go to her:
Blog - Facebook - Twitter - Pinterest

**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

The View From Here: The Lens of Motherhood

The View this Valentine's Day Eve comes from Julia of Elated Exhaustion.

Julia had me with this gem:

"Each time I hit the publish button, it is with a delicate balance of vulnerability and bravery."

Which is now part of my Me & Why I Blog page.

She shares her perspective on motherhood today.

__________

The Lens of Motherhood 

My house is littered in Legos and stray toys. 

When I open my refrigerator, I am greeted with juice boxes and pre-packaged children’s snacks. 

My bed rotates décor and the fancy throw pillows that used to adorn it are tossed on the floor as Curious George and Leo from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles settle their way in. 

I cannot take a shower without a pair of small eyes looking at me and my makeup is now just as much a child’s play toy as it is a tool to make myself presentable. 

I am a Mom. 

I have friends who are not yet mothers. They tell fabulous stories about events they go to, dance classes they take, dinners they leisurely partake in, and life as lived through the lens of a person without children. 

I cannot make plans without first arranging a babysitter. 

“Getting ready” is not as simple as taking a shower, getting dressed, and doing hair and makeup. It is a full-fledged routine which often involves chasing a toddler around while in a varied stage of nudity. 

Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to have a home not decorated in the toys of a little one and not draped in the ever so slightly sticky coat of toddler-ness that binds itself to the walls and the furniture. 

Sometimes, I wonder what quiet would sound like, what peace would be like; what a world not tethered to a little one would mean. 

Credit: Amy Robinson Photography

But then, I take in my view. The living room scattered with toys, the kitchen filled with snacks for little ones, the upstairs bedroom devoted to my little boy. 

And I smile at the pictures on my wall displaying my little one momentarily captured at different stages of growth. 

I am so very aware that this stage of intensity and littleness is not a permanent one. 

The things I’m “missing out on” right now in my life are things that could never compare to the small beauty found in little sticky fingers, afternoons of lego building, and good night cuddles from my son. 

I am a Mom. I view life from the lens of motherhood. 

And for that, I’m so very thankful.

__________

Of course we are always wistful for what could or might be if some circumstance were different.

But when you do stop and look around at the life you have, you can't imagine it any other way.

That is the epitome of gaining perspective and living with a grateful heart.

Find more of Julia at her:

Blog - Facebook - Twitter - Pinterest - Instagram

**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

Lost To Me

My babies are lost to me.

I only got to have two, and now they're no more.

My daughter is 13 and my son is about to turn 8. They are big kids.

There is nothing "baby" about them.

I miss my babies.

It's not that who they are now isn't great. It is. They are.

They are healthy and beautiful and bright and funny. They are challenging, obstinate and obnoxious.

Typical kids.

Their baby selves were soft, sweet, cuddly. They fit perfectly in the crook of my arm to nurse and nestled their sleepy little heads just below my shoulder. I could feel their breaths on my neck.

So warm.

Camryn Rose

Alexander Jared

I miss my babies.

Because, save for pictures, they are lost to me now.

I want to never forget.

__________
*I have been feeling more and more wistful like this as AJ's birthday approaches. Prodded to express it by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop prompt #2: Write a post inspired by the word 'lost'.

The View From Here: Not in the Picture

The first View of 2014 is coming to you from Larks Notes This!

Pretty sure she is someone I met at Yeah Write.

Larks' Twitter bio reads:

Interested in politics, parenting, food, and pop culture. Laughter is the best medicine.

Unless you have pneumonia. Then take antibiotics.

She is a fellow Washingtonian, was chosen one of BlogHer's 2013 Voices of the Year, is funny and smart, and her post for this series is something I'm fairly certain so many of us can relate to. She hasn't posted on her own blog since the end of NaBloPoMo in November, so I'm pretty flattered that she wrote for me today.

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Not in the Picture

I am unreasonably irritated by a bumper sticker on one of the cars I see at my kid’s school. It reads, “I am my kids’ mom.”

I know this is me taking a simple four word slogan and projecting my own issues onto it but I picture “I am my kids’ mom” as being the first sentence in a paragraph that continues along the lines of, “As my way of giving back to those less fortunate, I will pray for your partner and children because you are one of those broken women who have outside interests that extend past chevrons.”
  

It’s the whole “motherhood as martyrdom” thing. I mean, I get it, bumper sticker haver. Your children are your priority. As opposed to the rest of us hanging around at elementary school pick up who are pretty much indifferent towards our offspring and just decided to show up to retrieve them because all the good bars aren’t open yet.

But here’s the kicker:

I was going through my Instagram feed the other day as kind of a “year in review” exercise. There’s a lot of random stuff in there, some worth saving, some not. My daughter making Christmas cookies. A pacifier with a mustache attachment. So many sunsets. Even a dude wearing a possum like a Baby Bjorn for hill people. But you know what’s not in there? Me.

Okay, okay so that’s not entirely true. There are two pictures of my feet and one picture of me ill advisedly going down a three story high slide in a maxi dress. But out of hundreds upon hundreds of snapshots that’s it.

I’m not in the picture. And it’s not just because I don’t know how to take a selfie. It’s that it never occurred to me to do so.

As I reflect back on 2013 I can’t help but think this is emblematic of a larger issue. I wear a lot of hats. We all do. I’m a lover of red wine and red nail polish, a wife, a Doctor Who fan, a Seattleite, an awkward jogger and yoga enthusiast, a feminist, a reader of everything from Pablo Neruda to Cassandra Clare, a writer, a Michael Buble skeptic. And so many more things. But over the past five years one label has subsumed my identity: Mother.

What can I do to promote early reading skills? Why is everyone at Monster High emaciated? How can I put healthy family dinners together every. single. night. while sticking to a tight food budget?

All of these are important questions and mother is an important role, but at some point it bled into everything else. And I am no longer in the picture. Literally.

As my daughter grows older and needs me less this thought becomes increasingly unsettling. I don’t want her to grow up thinking that once you have kids it’s all hideous jeans and saccharine conversations that use “the children” as strawmen. Yet here I am, the not so proud owner of a grand total of one pair of jeans that are vaguely flattering. And I just spent twenty minutes talking to a woman who used the phrases “our little blessings” and “think of THE CHILDREN!” at least a dozen times.

Clearly I’m in need of some mother-life balance. Not that I need or want to focus on my family less. I just need to focus on myself more, dust off some of my other hats, and remember what it feels like to wear them.

I want to be a lot of things, but a seriously annoying bumper sticker isn't one of them.

__________

Happens all the time, doesn't it?

Balance.

Find more of Larks at her

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**If you are interested in contributing to this series, please go HERE**

My kids didn't drive me crazy this summer!

It is the middle of August, 3 weeks until a new school year begins.

I have already shopped for supplies. Soccer practice, eighth grade orientation and 2nd grade back-to-school night are right around the corner.

The kids going back to school is on my mind because we need to prepare for it, but for the first time since Camryn was a kindergartner, I am not counting down the days. I am not antsy nor impatient this year. I am not irritably grumbling about how long summer break is or that my kids are driving me nuts.

I have enjoyed this summer.

It is such a relief to not dread school breaks. Rather, to be the mom of big kids and look forward to having them home with the freedom to do whatever we want.

I LOVE little ones. To pieces. I think they are so cute and funny and snuggle-able. I love the scent of a new baby and the way a one year old is just finding his or her footing. I love to watch as they start really taking in the world around them. I love their first words, when they learn to clap and when they fall asleep on me.

I often really miss those stages. If anyone has a baby they'd like to let me borrow, please, had it over!

I'm not kidding. Ahem.

Anyway, last summer I got so sick of feeding my kids. The summer before that we had some major behavioral issues going on.

Now though? I can't really put my finger on what's different. Because kids are always challenging no matter what age they are. Little ones are physically demanding while big kids are more mentally demanding. Maybe fewer physical demands make all the difference in the overall enjoyment of children?

Could be their ages, or my age. Could be the experiences I've had that have taught me to just breathe and live in the moment. Could be therapy. Maybe it's all of that combined.

For once I don't really care why. I'm just glad it is.

This has been a very nice summer. In fact, the thought of my kids -- or just Camryn, if I'm being honest -- going back to school is causing me some anxiety. But that's a whole other post.

Linked up with Mama Kat for the prompt: What were you blogging about last year at this time? What has changed?

Tween to Teen

My daughter Camryn will turn 13 in a month.

Yeah, I know.

THIRTEEN.

She was halfway through her childhood at 9. Now she is just 5 short years away from legal adulthood.

FIVE.

I'm not sure we're ready for this.

I remember at the younger ages from about four to seven or so.....this push and pull thing going on. Like, I'm getting big, but still little enough to need my mommy a lot.

They call it autonomy.

This age involves a lot of push and pull too.

It's always about a month before Camryn's birthday that I start noticing changes in her. It's like her biological clock is perfectly timed to her birth date. She will suddenly acquire a new skill or a fresh new understanding of something. She will gain a new perspective or form a new opinion. Something will click that hadn't before.

I remember one year it was being able to cook eggs all by herself. Another year it was switching from a kiddie party to a big girl slumber party.

Now? Now it's the beginning of parental embarrassment. The beginning of sarcastic sassyness that knows-no-boundaries-but-she-better-damn-well-learn-them.

One day last week we went to Red Robin for dinner and my little girl who really doesn't want me to call her Cami anymore refused the kid's menu.

Push.

A few days later we headed to Payless for some new sandals for summer. Camryn spent the majority of the time we were there trying on fancy high heels we would never let her buy nor wear. Her dad was beside himself, leaning over to me and whispering, "I'm really not OK with this."

We sized her foot, discovering she and I are currently the same size. I thought this could be rather convenient because we could share shoes.

But my darling daughter wants nothing to do with sharing shoes with her mother.

Push.

Turns out her feet are skinnier than mine so she can squeeze her little tootsies into shoes I cannot. Whatever. She still has feet way too big for a 12 year old, so there!

But her big feet make me think back to when I was pregnant with her and the day I had my 20(ish) week ultrasound. We got a picture of her foot, which the tech commented on being big. When she was born, a friend of ours called her feet skis.

There are a couple of things leftover from littlegirlhood. Cami still calls us Mommy and Daddy. Since I know every other kid her age (and younger) is using the shorter Mom and Dad, I find myself asking her when she might make the switch. She seems to be unconcerned with it.

Pull.

Cami still likes to be tucked into bed at night. She is utterly offended by the idea that she could just go up to bed on her own.

Pull.

On the other hand, Camryn is asking me about the possibility of riding her bike places. Like outside of our neighborhood and by herself.

(I was doing that much younger than her, but we all know how parenting and childhood have changed.)

Push.

I'll take this push and pull right now, even though it might give me a little whiplash.

I will cherish the moments I hear, "Mommy, I need to talk to you about something." And when she sits right up next to me on the couch. Or when she looks back at me as she's walking up to the fast food counter to get more ranch for her fries....

I will keep encouraging her to stick with Girl Scouts for as long as absolutely possible.

Because I know it's all going to change. I know my daughter; maybe it will be slowly. But the saying goes, "slowly but.....surely".

Also connected with Memories Captured and Pour Your Heart Out.

Guest Post: Elated Exhaustion

Here for you I have the last of this series of guest posts.

I quoted this blogger just week before last. I took the quote from a really great post she wrote about how blogging has changed her life. I can so relate.

Something kinda big is weighing on Julia's heart and she could really use some advice and support.

__________

Burnt Out

When Jennifer called for submissions to guest post on her blog, I was immediately in. She has been a longtime supporter of my blog, Elated Exhaustion, and I’m so honored to be here today. Today, I want to share something with you that I’m not sure I have ever been able to articulate correctly, and I would truly love to hear your opinions.

I’m afraid that I am burnt out.

Growing up, I always wanted to be a Mommy. That was my entire goal in life, was to one day be a stay at home Mommy to four little ones.

It was so much my goal, in fact, that I prepared vigorously for it.

I started babysitting when I was 12, and continued all the way through my adulthood. In high school, I was known to skip dates to babysit. I know, I was super cool, right?

I skipped some of the parts of my teenage childhood in order to take care of little ones and I truly loved doing it.

I nannied through college and even choose to major in Early Childhood Education with an emphasis in Pre-K through second grade, so a lot of my classes were geared toward childhood development. Majoring in Early Childhood Education is not just about taking classes, but it involves a lot of student teaching, so you are constantly learning about children, interacting with them and actually teaching intently before graduating.

I graduated in December, so I was not able to land a teaching job right away since it was the middle of the school year. I took on a job as a full time nanny of 3 children, ages 5, 3, and a few months.

The following school year, I secured my first teaching job as the lead teacher in a pre-K class, getting my own class of 20 four year olds.

Luckily I had a great teaching assistant and wonderful students and parents. Though I enjoyed teaching, that job did not fit and so the next year I started a job as a Kindergarten teacher at a local Title One public elementary school.

I loved this job. Though at first I was intimated, teaching at a Title One school turned out to be a wonderful experience and I really felt at home there.

But oh my goodness did I love coming home to a quiet house and vegging out in front of the TV at the end of the day. Taking care of 20 five year olds all day can be quite exhausting!

Half way through the school year, I unexpectedly got pregnant. I fully intended to return to teaching after the birth of my son.

I finished the school year, but as it turns out my pregnancy became quite complicated. I was on bed rest for the last three months of my pregnancy and then went through a difficult delivery and recovery that included a bought of postpartum depression. I chose not to go back to work and am now a stay at home Mommy, a decision I have never once regretted.

But here’s the thing: I’m afraid I’m burnt out. I love staying at home with my son, but there are days when I think about how nice it would be to just be able to sit in front of the TV and veg out. Or, you know, do something novel like go to the bathroom alone.

I wanted to be a stay at home mommy so badly that I spent many years prepping for it, but now I wonder if I would ever be able to have another child? Because sometimes I feel like I got burnt out on all the years of babysitting and nannying and teaching and now I only have enough energy to be a Mommy to one.

My trepidation to have another child stems from a variety of reasons, some obviously related to my difficult pregnancy and recovery with my son. But in the back of my mind, I wonder if maybe I’m just done with the whole taking care of little children thing?

What do you think? Is it possible to burn out on motherhood before you really get started?

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Ummm.... Well Julia, the thing is.....

OK, my advice is this: Don't have another baby just because you think you're supposed to. You should WANT to add to your family. Also, both you and hubs gotta agree. Maybe you should just space your kids out by 5 years like I did. Have a new baby when the first is starting kindergarten!

That was helpful, right? It's just such a personal question, whether or not to have children. I wish you all luck with coming up with great things to say to Julia!

I am not selfish.

We women love and nurture and care. It's part of our inherent nature.

Not that men don't. But there is a clear difference. In my 38 1/2 years on this planet I've noticed this fact: women carry an abundance of guilt, where men do not. Men have no problem taking care of their own needs without feeling guilty about it. I'm pretty sure that all too often sometimes we women resent them for it.

Mothers love and nurture and care. For others. Notsomuch for ourselves.

The simple act of getting a haircut can feel like an indulgence.

At night after the kids are tucked into bed, we pull out our hidden stashes of chocolate, grab a glass of red wine and tweet or facebook that we're enjoying them and do not feel guilty about it, dammit!

Yet we still do. Deep down.

Guilt is the bane of our existence.

We rationalize that we're "giving up" our own needs for the needs of the "greater good", which makes us feel like we're doing the right thing, not being selfish. Of course often financial concerns require prioritizing the needs of the family. Believe me, I know this well.

BUT, and it's a big BUT, the things that don't cost money, shouldn't have to be put on the back-burner.

Things like alone time, hot baths, getting out for a walk to clear your head, taking a nap, not doing the dishes just one freaking day, letting your kids eat cereal for dinner once in awhile, read a book, do a craft or taking some time to chat with a girlfriend.

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I've come to what I now believe is one of the so-called "change of life" milestones: when all your children are in full-time school. Granted, this may not affect working moms as much as those who stay at home.....although....just the savings on day care must be fantastic.....

I don't think I'm being too dramatic when I say this has been huge for me. In good ways and bad. or rather, positives and negatives. I shall focus on the positives for the purpose of this post.

It is now my time to become fully ME. The title of my blog has never been more apropos. Now is the time when I can have the best of both worlds. I can, dare I say, have my cake and eat it to.

I will always be a mother. I am still a wife. I utterly adore my family. they will always come first in my heart. I already feel like a better mom. I look forward to my kids coming home each day and show them more patience.

Now though, I have some freedom to explore the other parts of me.....wait for it.....without feeling like it's selfish.

To take better care of my health, both physical and mental. To keep plugging along this blogging journey and sift through the possibilities therein. To be creative. To maybe figure-out-how-to-get-some-new-glasses-especially-since-one-of-my-nose-pieces-just-broke-off. To feel like cooking more (I already do). To maybe become a little more independent. And for gosh sakes, to possibly RELAX a little...??

It's not selfish. It's fair. I'm not selfish. It's my turn.

I am such an idiot!

Never mind the fact that I Googled "half of 2/3" while baking this weekend.

::Face palm::

That's a minor thing.

No. I proclaimed more than once over the summer how I was looking forward to September, starting a new chapter with both of my kids in school full-time.....

It was gonna be great!

And it is.

But.

It was a CHANGE. A pretty big one. And I'm not always the best at change.

I have to warm to it. The idea has to grow on me. Then I'll be all, "Bring it on!"

One would think this was happening over the summer. That I had ample time to be ready for this new normal.

Apparently not.

When September 5 rolled around and my little boy was gone just like his big sister, it broke me a little.

Not so much that day. More like as the days marched on and both my children left me for six hours of each one. It started to sink in. The change had come.

I became a mess.

If I really think about it, it's not so much that something changed. It's not even really that it has to do with facing my babies growing up. At the heart of it is the fear and anxiety I write about so often.

This is why I'm an idiot. I should know by now that a change like this can set off a chain reaction of crazy emotions inside me. I should have expected it and planned for it.

I'm doing much better now. I've found a new routine and have plenty to do. And I like it. But man, I wish this past month had gone differently.