The Curse of the Stay at Home Mom...

Didn't know we were cursed, did you? Well, call it a curse or a blessing, the title depends on the day and the mood around the house.

There is a common misconception among children of the Stay at Home Mother. That misconception is, that "Daddy is the axis that the whole world rotates on."

Don't get me wrong, I like Daddy. If I didn't like Daddy, there would be no children, therefore no SAHM title. But sometimes, the irrational level of idolization that is given to the position of father is a bit much to take.

As the SAHM, you are always there, wiping noses, encouraging homework (or schooling), getting the rooms cleaned, keeping the laundry done, making sure they are fed and out the door when necessary. You kiss the boo boos, make a last minute batch of muffins when there's no snack for school, buy the cereal they want, pay the mortgage so there's a roof over their head. You drive them to soccer, baseball, swim lessons, friends' houses, Lego League, and pick them up after open gym at 4. You keep the iPod charged, download the new music, find the right channel at the right time for Dora, and email the teachers to let them know the major events in their lives, of which there are too many.

You do all of this, while Dad is gone making the living. And Dad's job is not cushy, at least not at our house, he is often knee deep in water in a ditch, or out in the driving snow. He has customers whose houses are so nasty he immediately gets in the shower from walking in the door. He has the occasional mistake that eats him up inside, and the mistakes of others to clean up after. And it takes at least 50 hours of his week. I am not implying his job is easier or harder, it is only different.

But the children don't think about that. They just know he is gone (and needs to be), and that mean mommy is making them work, and not giving them extra cookies. She is resposible for those horrid naps, and if only Daddy could hear me cry out for him, he would come running and snuggle me to sleep in front of NASCAR.

So the moment there is a problem, nay, a qualm that they don't care for how Mommy is handling, They scream for Daddy.
"Daddy won't make me nap."
"Daddy won't make me eat my sandwich."
"Dad won't make me clean my room."
"Dad won't make me fold laundry."
"Dad will let me jump off the roof." (into the seven foot high snowbanking)
"Dad gets me toast when I'm sick."

Not necessarily all of it is true. But Dad isn't there to confirm it, and so Moms are left fighting the ideal.

There is a benefit to all of this, though. You see, when Dad comes home from his long day of work, they run to him, cling to him, and Mommy....


Gets a moment to breathe.

I'm not looking for any "Appreciate what you have..." Because I really do try to, all the time. But an Amen from those who know of what I speak, that would be nice.