my in-bin is full
Sometimes I'll be doing something mundane and something will happen and I'll think "Finally, something to blog about." Do I make a note of it? Nope. Do I quickly run downstairs and whip up a post? Nope. Instead I just forget about it altogether. I'll sit at the computer days later and remember that there was something funny I had wanted to write down in here but it's like a dream - you sort of know that you should remember it but it's not quite there.
Sometimes I wonder where my days go. I feel like I spend all day moving, cooking, picking up, doing something and at the end of the day I look at the heap of crusty dishes and the laundry spilling over the baskets. I sigh at the ring around the bathtub and the toys scattered throughout the house. At 9 o'clock at night I pick up the toys and throw errant socks into the piles of laundry waiting to be washed and wonder what I did all day.
Where does the time go? Sometimes when I've gone to make plans with someone, or commented that I have a hard time getting someone on the phone I hear "well I have a job," or "I work." Apparently what I do is not work.
I spend my days spinning from chore to chore, standing over the stove, over the kitchen sink, over the bathtub, over yet another poopy diaper. I constantly have another task lurking over my head. The kids are always mere minutes away from needing something else. The schedule needs to be followed but is disrupted so easily, throwing my already busy day into (what feels like) chaos. At the end of it all, when the kids are in bed and I'm scrubbing caked on spaghetti sauce off of the counter I wonder what on earth I accomplished in the long (yet short) day.
Then the next day I get up at 7 o'clock to not work again.
Sometimes I wonder where my days go. I feel like I spend all day moving, cooking, picking up, doing something and at the end of the day I look at the heap of crusty dishes and the laundry spilling over the baskets. I sigh at the ring around the bathtub and the toys scattered throughout the house. At 9 o'clock at night I pick up the toys and throw errant socks into the piles of laundry waiting to be washed and wonder what I did all day.
Where does the time go? Sometimes when I've gone to make plans with someone, or commented that I have a hard time getting someone on the phone I hear "well I have a job," or "I work." Apparently what I do is not work.
I spend my days spinning from chore to chore, standing over the stove, over the kitchen sink, over the bathtub, over yet another poopy diaper. I constantly have another task lurking over my head. The kids are always mere minutes away from needing something else. The schedule needs to be followed but is disrupted so easily, throwing my already busy day into (what feels like) chaos. At the end of it all, when the kids are in bed and I'm scrubbing caked on spaghetti sauce off of the counter I wonder what on earth I accomplished in the long (yet short) day.
Then the next day I get up at 7 o'clock to not work again.
Comments
"You didn't have class today? Wow, that must have been nice!" Yeah...Right. That means I didn't have class to go to and escape from this load of research and writing I"m doing. No, no, no, instead I sat banging my head against the wall over statistical methods that I still don't quite understand and at the end of a tiring day of simply 'staying at home and enjoying myself' I still have that paper to write and those questions to be answered. My counter has caked on spaghetti on it too; and yet I was sitting at home all day without any classes to go to.
"Just wait 'till you have the experience of going to work everyday..." Oh, you mean like a job that I get to actually *leave* and forget about at the end of the day? That would be a change, you're right!
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Maybe I should end with a smiley face, because the above sounds really cranky!!!
:D
As for the Stay-At-Home-Mom of 3 thing? It's rewarding, but it's the most demanding job I have EVER had. I remember spending 8 hour days doing menial things like data entry (someone else's data, not mine), stuffing envelopes, etc. It was a cake-walk. You could do it half asleep!