I don't get paid enough for this

Housewife Rant

Today I decided to tackle the bathroom. Really get on my hands and knees and scrub, scrub, scrub. I got all my cleaners together, bought some new towels and a bathmat to celebrate the new birth of my ultra clean and oh so child friendly new bathroom. I found a bunch of recipes online for safe, eco/child friendly home made cleaners. (Most of which use lemon or vinegar). Knowing I was going to take on this project today I picked up those things and the new bathroom stuff yesterday so I would be prepared. I have now been scrubbing my bathtub for a little over 3 hours. I used all the homemade cleaners in different sections of the tub to compare results. Best cleaner; Vinegar and baking soda (Pro; it makes a neat fizzing noise like those volcanos we all made in grade school. Con; my bathroom smells like fish and chips.)

I remove the shelf from the bathroom I scrub the floor, the walls, and just as I am about to take on the toilet Aidan runs over to tell me he loves me. Now as beautiful as this sentiment is I know this also means my son is up to something. I can smell poop. I ask oh so nicely "Aidan did you poop in your pants instead of on your potty". He replies "No mommy I pooped in the potty I am playing with it like playdoh".

Thats right. I go into the childs room where I 'THINK' he is playing with his trains to find a poop smeared shelf, potty, and floor.

Awesome.


I really need to talk to my boss about my working conditions.

Aftermath

This is why housewives can't take a day off, even if it is because they are sick with an expecting child and a huge bout of morning sickness (which should be called all-day sickness).

I present to you Exibit A; my kitchen.

Now my house is usually very clean lately, I pride myself in it and look at it as my WORK, so I need to do it everyday. It is my contribution to our household. The usual housewife stuff; cook, clean, laundry, raise children. I am amazed that with ONE day off my kitchen was victim to the boys.

things that go bump in the night

I am still not sleeping.

First ultrasound tomorrow so we can actually determine how far I am officially. I am so tired all the time and yet I can NOT sleep at night. I am exhausted all day which I fear I am taking out on my three year old son. Not abusively just pathetically, like I pop in a sesame street movie so I can cuddle up with him and rest instead of doing art projects or baking cookies like usual.

Speaking of baking I have my second contracted job this weekend. Making over 50 cupcakes for a babyshower and another baby shower requiring a triple layer cake on the 17th. Slow business is still good business. I'll take it. I wish my business cards would come in already....

Just wanted to share this first story....

I did not write this but I read on another site and thought it would set the tone nicely for this blog.

Happy Reading,
SJN





JUST A MOM?

A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What I mean is," explained the recorder,


"do you have a job or are you just a......?"


"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman. "I'm a Mom."

"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation, 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.


I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."


"What is your occupation?" she probed.


What made me say it?


I do not know.

The words simply popped out.


"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written, in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"


Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, [what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family) and already have four credits (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up and personally ushered me to the door. As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my
glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.

Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!


And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom." Motherhood!


What a glorious career!


Especially when there's a title on the door.