Playing stay-home mom

I can still remember the first time I took the week off to enjoy Spring Break with my kids. This would be my chance to see what it felt like being a stay-at-home mom. I was so excited. I planned to savor every second of my vacation away from work.

I started the week ambitious and energetic. I had a huge list of things to do. Actually, I had two lists. One was full of fun stuff like going to the library, spending a day at a water park and letting the kids play at a Playland while I read a book.

The other list contained chores that I normally don’t have time to tackle. Things like boxing up clothes the kids had outgrown, cleaning out the pantry and sewing patches onto the girls’ Brownies vests. Yes sir, I was ready to rock as a full-time, stay-home mom.

MONDAY

We started the week out with a treat – pajama day. We all stayed in our PJs the whole day, lounging about, watching movies and playing board games. I didn’t get to any of my chores, but what the heck? I was on vacation, right?

TUESDAY

Tuesday, we managed to get to the library and to McDonalds. Sadly, my little guy missed his nap so the rest of the day I paid for it, trying to get things done with a 2 year-old glued to both of my legs. I didn’t get any of my chores done, but it was still early in the week. I had no doubt I’d eventually cross them off my list.

WEDNESDAY

I said goodbye to housework for one more day, and we hit the water park, only to later return to a total disaster zone. Toys were strewn everywhere and now wet towels and swimsuits littered the bathroom floor. Our eyes, red from chlorine, burned and we all were in bed before 7 p.m.

THURSDAY

The kids were up at 6 a.m. (They’d gone to bed too early the night before.) I was determined to tackle the house and it took me most of the day to pile through laundry and get the kitchen and bathrooms into shape.

By the time evening rolled around, I was tired and frustrated. After all, with the kids home all day, the clutter and mess was relentless. While I was cleaning the living room, they were in my bedroom, jumping on the bed, watching my TV and shoving previously folded laundry onto the floor.

When I kicked them out to clean my room, they moved to their own rooms and trashed them in seconds. I was so busy with basic tidying I was too pooped out to tackle any of my big projects.

Also, at this point, everyone’s fuses have grown short and the bickering is constant. Tattle-tailing is at an all-time high and we look more like the family from Malcolm in the Middle than the picture-perfect one on Full House. I’m saying things like, “If I have to come up there one more time, you’re going to get it!” and “Keep your hands to yourself!” with alarming frequency.

FRIDAY

By the time Friday came I was absolutely starved for adult conversation. So I packed up the kids and we left for Grandma’s. As my brood raided Grandpa’s snack stash, I hung on Grandma’s every word. She obliged and told me, with great detail, about her recent trip to the casino.

“Really,” I asked, riveted. “They just gave you the free meal tokens?”

She could’ve been reading the back of a cereal box for all I cared. I was just happy to hear someone talk in a normal tone of voice – no whining, no tattling. At 9, they pushed us out the front door, waving and shaking their heads.

SATURDAY

When Saturday rolled around I began to feel desperate. Somehow, I managed to blow my whole week and had very little to show for it. I was determined to get the too-small clothes out of the kids’ dressers by the end of the day.

I’d envisioned packing everything away into perfectly labeled storage tubs, to be given to a friend for her kids. But with time waning, I stuffed them into a couple of trash bags and stashed them in a corner in the basement instead.

SUNDAY

I always look forward to church on Sundays. It’s partly because I enjoy the preacher, but mostly because during the service, I get to sit alone and listen to an inspirational sermon, uninterrupted.

With my older kids in Sunday school and my little guy in the nursery, I get one whole, delicious hour to sit quietly and listen. For me, that hour is as relaxing as a Swedish massage, honest.

Sadly, this Sunday, the nursery volunteer was sick. I brought my two-year-old into the church and had to nearly sit on him for the hour to keep him quiet. Despite my best efforts, an old lady with bright red lipstick which had settled deep into the creases around her mouth scowled at me.

Sunday night, my daughter informs me she has a science project due the next day. No problem I think, looking at the clock. It’s 6 p.m. – there’s still time. She proceeds to tell me about the germination experiment she was to conduct, wrapping sunflower seeds in a moistened paper towel and documenting when they sprout over the course of a week.

After a little quick thinking, we punt and turn it into a research project (without the hands-on part). I cross my fingers and hope for the best as I shove everything into her backpack. By the time everyone is fed and bathed, it’s 8 p.m.

After the kids settle down for good – drinks of water have been disbursed, under-bed monsters exterminated and threats of “…if you get out of bed one more time…” have been administered – it’s nearly 9.

At the end of my “vacation from work”, I learned an important lesson about myself. I need structure. I need to get out of my house. I need time alone.

Sitting on my couch after a week as a stay-home mom, I realized that I needed to go back to work – and soon.

Working is good for me. Working gives my life balance. An office setting makes me feel professional and confident. The time spent away from my home and my kids gives me perspective on my life.

Don’t get me wrong. I love being a mother and think I’m damn good at it too. But, working outside of my home helps me appreciate my at-home time more.

For me, one of the biggest, most practical advantages to working full-time can be boiled down to a simple equation:

Less time spent at my house = less time spent cleaning my house.

During the workweek, I tidy my house once in the morning, leave and come home to find it in the same condition as I’d left it in 10 hours earlier. When I’m home all day, the cleaning is continuous. I don’t know what’s more stressful for me: cleaning a house that’s continually getting messed up or trying to function in a messy house. Either way, I relish leaving and coming home to a tidy home. And this, for me, is a very big deal.

So there you have it. This week illustrates exactly why I couldn’t be a stay-home mom. I simply need more time away from my kids and home.

Some people might think that admitting all of this makes me appear to be a less-than-ideal mother. I’ve had bosses whose wives were stay-home moms, sneer at this suggestion.

But I strongly believe that deep down every mom needs time away from her house and kids. It rejuvenates the spirit, rekindles the fire.

And how much time away varies from mom to mom. For some, a quick trip to the grocery store by oneself does the trick. For others, an extended weekend every now and again is what it takes. And others, like me, need a slice of time away every day in order to come home recharged.

And there’s nothing wrong with admitting it.