A Post on Being a Stay-at-Home-Mom

I had to write about this…

I was in class yesterday chatting with a few of the other students, all women, before the professor arrived. We started talking about our situations. Some of the ladies worked, others were taking classes part-time, some were at it full-time. I shared that I stayed-at-home with my boys, and I took one class a semester; I was slowly trudging through the program. Hearing this, one of the women turned to me and said something along the lines of:

“It must be easy for you to get good grades since you only take one class at a time, and don’t work.”

Um, excuse me?

I was somewhat taken aback, and managed to stammer-out a feeble, “Well, I have two small children, so finding time to study can be hard,” when another student jumped to my defense:

“She’s a stay-at-home mom. That’s hard work! You,” she said to the assuming woman," “have a lunch break. She,” pointing at me, “doesn’t get a lunch break”.

Then, my champion gave me a big smile and sassily said, “You work hard girl!”

I could have kissed her. 

Truthfully, the comment annoyed me a little. And it also got me thinking: Why is it that stay-at-home-moms (or dads?) are always having to defend themselves, and their decisions to stay home? For that matter, why are people constantly being judged on the decisions that they make when it comes to that fine-line between family and career?

Let me just get this out there: I stay home with my boys because I choose to. Not because I have to. Not because I’m uneducated, or can’t find a job. Not because I’m lazy, or because it’s easy. I chose it. Period.

Let me also say this: Just because I stay at home does not mean that my house is super clean. I don’t cook gourmet meals for dinner every night. My children are not perfectly well-behaved, concert-pianists, or reading at a college-level. It’s a good day when Pierre gets home, and I am wearing make-up or jewelry and my hair isn’t in a sloppy ponytail. I don’t watch soap-operas all afternoon, nor do I have time to write the next great novel.

Some days are so run-around busy that I’m lucky to get out of the house with my shirt on right-side-in. Other days, truth be told, are kind of boring, and I’m pulling out that sloppy ponytail as I try to find something to do with the boys that doesn’t involve playing trains (again!), or watching Aladdin for the zillionth time. Some days I’m an awesome mom. Most days, I think that anyone could do a better job at raising my boys than me. There are equal parts laughter and tears; triumph and disappointment.

Now, I’m not going to give you an exhaustive list of how I spend my days. What’s the point? Those of you who already know what being a stay-at-home-parent is all about, don’t need a list. And those of you who do need the list, probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.

And I’m also not going to assume that I am busier than anyone else. Everyone is busy in their own way. Work-from-home, work-outside-of-the-home, go-to-school, raise-your-kids, looking-for-a-job, retired, volunteering…no kids, one kid, two kids, red kid, blue kid…whatever your situation, I bet you have a whole lot to do. So why compare?

We all make choices based on what is best for us, based on what our unique situations allow for. I stay at home with the boys because Pierre and I decided that was what would be best for our family. And thankfully, our situation allows me to do it. I’m grateful for that. I take one class a semester because, with the exorbitant cost of university in the United States, that’s what I can afford to take. I get good grades because I work hard, not because it’s easy or because I have oodles of time to study. Sometimes that means staying at home, and writing a paper while Pierre takes the boys to the pool or park or Lowes. And trying not to feel guilty because I’m not with them. I started this degree when I was five-months pregnant with Nicholas (and in my world, that’s about as badass as it gets). I’ll be done by the time the boys go to school full-time. That’s my goal. My goal. Not yours. You have your own. I’d never assume that your goal is easier than mine. Why not pay me the same courtesy?

Is my job easier, or harder than my best friend or fellow student or neighbor or the banker, baker or candlestick-maker? Who knows? Who cares?! I’m not going to judge you. Why judge me?

So, the next time you decide to make a comment about the person sitting next to you, stop and think a little.

And go give your mom (or dad) a hug instead.

xo Naomi