Sometimes being a stay-at-home-mom sucks. There. I said it.

Now let me clarify.

I am blessed and fortunate to be a SAHM. It is the most rewarding thing I have ever done and I am so thankful I am in the position where I am able to be home with my child, especially when there are so many mothers who want to, but are unable to be.

But.

Sometimes, it sucks.

I didn’t have an illusions about this job. I knew that it would come with challenges. Most of the time the challenges aren’t so bad. My day with Owen is usually fairly easy, happy and fun. But every now and then he throws me a curve ball and it takes all I have not to run for the hills.

As per usual, Owen’s biggest challenge is sleep. It’s one area he just never gave to me easy. First he never slept, then he sort of slept, and while he finally made it to sleeping ALL the way through the night, he’s decided that it’s time to screw with naps.

The rational part of me knows this is a developmental stage that will pass just like the rest of them, but when I’m IN the stage — deep in the trenches covered in mud — it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Lately, he is sloooowly working from two naps down to one. I’ve read this could take a while (fantastic), as for some time, two naps are too much, but one isn’t enough. He really needs to get to one solid nap in the middle of the day, but we’re not there yet.

So basically, he’s exhausted by 10 and will nap, but when he’s tired again around 2, he fights me for an hour, screaming and crying whether I’m holding him, rocking him, or if I just put him in his crib and walk away. After no afternoon nap, he’s a PIA the rest of the afternoon, often crashing by 4 and leaving me ragged. He’s been going to bed at night early, let me tell you.

Typical for this age? Yup. Will take some time to get to where he needs to be? Of course. But doing it alone? Whoa, boy.

I have SO much respect for single mothers. The ones who have to do everything because if they don’t, no one else will. My mom did it and while I always respected her before, since becoming a mother myself she is pretty much Superwoman to me.

I’m not saying I’m like a single mom, but for eight hours a day, I do this parent thing alone. This isn’t a dig on Michael. He works hard all day to provide for us and he trades his Work hat for his Dad hat before he even finished unlocking the door. When he’s home, he’s home. And I love him for that.

But sometimes, when I’ve already had a DAY and there’s still cleaning to do, groceries to buy, and oh yeah, a kid to take care of, I look at the clock and it’s only 11 a.m. and am wistful of those days in an office, where when the work day was done, it was done.

This feeling is only a tiny fraction of the time I spend being a mother. The rest of the time I could pinch myself for being so lucky — lucky to have a thriving, beautiful child, a lovely home, a wonderful husband. But I think this feeling is worth talking about because no stay-at-home-mom, not even the ones making wreaths out of dried spaghetti and candle wax on Pinterest love it all of the time.

Well, maybe the ones who make the wreaths out of nothing but air and glitter. Because those women are amazing.

 

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