Part of the Elite

Recently I was directed to a mommy blog entry that made me so unnatural mad that I almost didn’t read it.   It was entitled: “Dear Stay-at-Home-Mom, please, Shut UP!”  Which you can read (here), and the whole article was about how sick and tired this author was with SAHM’s and their constant complaining about their children and husbands and all around life as a mother.   

You can imagine what my reaction was:  “Ugh! What a Witch!  (With a capitol B) How dare she so blatantly write a blog about my life as a mother without even consulting me!  (rude)  and I had just read the title.  I knew this blog was about me.  I know that I am that SAHM that basically lives and breaths for the opportunity to complain about my children to any random stranger that is willing to entertain my whims.  Heeellooooo!  You do read this blog, right?  So yeah, complaining about my kids is one of my greatest joys about being a mom.  With that being said, I was highly offended that the author didn’t agree with my sentiment.

And I almost didn’t read it.

Almost.

I wasn’t going to, (mostly because the repost of the blog had a self-important introduction attached to it) but if someone is going to be so arrogant as to write about you without ever actually talking to you then you know this drama is gonna be good! **

So I read it.  And I realized…

She was right.

In fact, I didn’t even realize how right she was until the very next day my husband and I made the trip down to my oldest daughters Public school to be witness to a ceremonial Breakfast for all the “Scientists of the Month”.  A title reserved for only the brightest, most passionate and the children of the best looking parents that this school had to offer.  But mostly I think they just pick a student randomly.  Either way, there is an award ceremony and a pancake breakfast and it is fun and achievement had by all!

All, except, for the little boy who sat next to me as I watched my daughter receive her award.  He happened to be in my daughters class and was also being recognized for his massive intellect, but there was no parent there to celebrate with him and after watching all these parents fawn all over their children, he couldn’t hold it in anymore and he began to sob.

I didn’t even realize until a teacher had sat next to him and putting her arm around him asked if he was going to be okay.  This little boy whimpered while nodding and when the teacher asked if it was because his parents couldn’t be there, he choked back another sob.  

I had never thought about it before… But both his parents work.  That mom gets to leave the house everyday and deal with adult issues and maybe gets to talk to other adults.  She probably gets to have a bathroom break without a child sitting in the stall with her asking her for water.  She probably even got to eat her Lunch hot and in a calm and orderly fashion.  Maybe she even got to read a book while on her break… This little boys parents are both teachers.  They make a living.  They get to have a breather from their stay-at-home lives by going out into the real world.  They make the brave choice to leave their child everyday in order to educate mine.

And I never… realized how completely… and utterly blessed I am as a stay-at-home-mom…

until that… 

very… 

moment…

My daughter was being recognized.  She had achieved something that she had always wanted.  She was so excited to tell me and she counted down the days until her breakfast and she told me about it every opportunity she got… I mean like every single one.  All I heard about for days was this “Scientist of the Month Breakfast”  and when she finally accepted her award from her principles she practically glowed.  

And I got to be there for that.

Now, it is very important that you realize that I am not knocking working parents.  Because I commend those that are both full time employee’s and full time parents.  What they do is selfless and always for their children and their families.

But I get to be there… for everything.  For every baby step.  For every milestone.  For every “Scientist of the Month Breakfast”  And as much as I complain and as many days there are where I spend half of it screaming and half of it crying it still beats anything else that I could be doing.  Because even with my bitching and complaining, I would never want to do anything else.  I would never want to be anywhere else.

So thank you Blogger for being painfully honest about how selfish we can be.  You are absolutely right.  I just needed to realize how blessed I really am and how I would never trade any of it for the world.

…

Although, Its probably not going to stop me from complaining.

Antenella

**I don’t for any reason actually think that this blogger is writing about me specifically.  I have never met this women and I doubt she even knows I exist.  So when I say she is writing about me, I mean more in a figurative way as opposed to the literal way.  So please don’t sent her nasty letters in order to defend my good name.  Because everyone knows that I have no such thing.**

Things I am not...

You might be someone who had no idea what becoming a parent would actually entail.  You might be someone who thought that you actually did know what it would entail.  (Either way... you are wrong.)

You, like me, probably thought you would do extraordinary things that involved cultural learning to an adorable and highly intelligent toddler who would "Ooh" and "Ahh" at all your developed knowledge of the temples in Rome during the era of Caesar.  You and your precocious 3 to 4 year old, who would always listened and nodded with affirmation when you explained the in's and out's of modern politics, would spend endless amounts of time exploring the world around you with the use of paint and artistic expression; while always dressed in the cutest of Gymboree clothing.  Faces never dirty... never tear streaked, for the love of philosophy and the thirst for knowledge would always guide your little ones heart!

And then you actually had a child....
And then you actually tried to teach them something...
And then you actually wondered if you ever even existed....
Like... ever...

Because no one FREAKING listens to you!!!!!

Being a parent is probably the most degrading job I have ever had... I seriously think that I could probably drop off the face of the earth, get hooked on drugs and then start stripping for a living and I would still feel less taken advantage of at the end of the day.

Do any other professions deal with the concerns of their boss following them into the bathroom to figure out what exactly they are doing with company time?

Or does any other professional have to be crossed examined by their boss for every...single...little...decision that is made, including the idea of apple or goldfish with lunch?  Folding laundry or cleaning a bathroom?  Watering the plants or cleaning the pool?

If anyone else's boss asked them the same question more then 50,000x in a matter of 4 minutes, you probably wouldn't be working there anymore.  In fact, someone would probably wonder about your bosses mental capacity.

But no!!!  Instead, my boss's who are degrading, neurotic, self-absorbed, pycho-paths!!!  are causing me to actually question MY sanity when everyone knows that any adult acting this way would be off their rocker!!!

With that being said I have discovered a few things that I am not.  And like I did with my children,  I would like to share with you some of those things:

Things I am not:

I am not a short order cook.
I am not a maid.
I am not a timer.
I am not a magician that can magic things into thin air.
I am not your slave.

you are not your freaking khakis

I am not your party planner.
I am not your servant that just stands in the corner until I am summoned.
I am not your judge.
I am not your jury.
I am not your punching bag.
I am not your dumping ground for unwanted responsibilities.
I am not the cleaning lady.
I am not the remote control.
I am not the chauffeur.
I am not the seamstress.
I am not to be ignored.
I am not be disrespected.
I am not be treated as a subhuman.
I am not your classmate.
I am not your friend.
I AM YOUR MOTHER!
....and I will be treated as such.

So, if you wanted to have any of the above objects, then you can grow up, get a job, make lots of money and buy these things for yourself after you pay for the therapy I caused you by not being any of these things when you were five.
#sorrynotsorry

 Antenella

Ode to my Budget

My husband and I have finally decided to cut back on our spending and start trying to put a little bit in savings.  The following letter is addressed to the two weeks worth of our new "budget".  I say

"Budget" pretty loosely since that's basically just a code word for "Don't spend any money until we get payed again."  It has been a journey of testing and resolve.  But on the upside,  I look damn skinny:)

Ode to my Budget:

How I loath you with the passion of a million fiery suns exploding in a brilliant display of blazing fervor...

Oh budget, why must you curse me so?
  
How I wish I could embrace you with a longing deepest to my heart.  How I wish we could be a happy union like that of the blissful bride on the dance floor of her wedding.  

But alas, it shall not be.

Oh, Why O budget of intense minimalist, must you be as strapping as a straight jacket?  The Grocery store has a BOGO on Bacon but I reach back my hand to review my calculator with the utmost of despair.  BOGO must wait till friday...

A mantra that you have forced me to call my own, O budget of paralysis!

Hark!  A coupon for Kohls has brightened my doorstep!  Oh happy day this day of magic and wonder!  But the fates are cruel and the expiration draws near... too near.  Friday can not over take it and I am doomed to lose the $10 kohl bucks I would have rejoiced in spending.

Why must you make a mockery of me O cruel financial planning?

Why must you mock me with your window sales of two for one yankee candles in all the delectable flavors of autumn?  What does the smell of "Balsam and Cedar" or the simplicity of "Harvest" smell like?  I shan't know,  for the envelope for "Home Decor" was nothing but a laugh an after thought, complete with the promise of a "Home" envelope in future months.

Why must the wheel of my mind churn like the grinding wheel of a 1940's flour mill when I lay my eyes on my barren refrigerator?  I close the door in shame and empty longing only to reach for the handle again for the 10,684th time.  I peer into the empty bleakness again with a renewed sense of insane glee that maybe a morsel of nourishment will present itself as a sacrifice to the tiny gods that litter my floorboards.

The tiny gods demand Dunkin Donuts!!   They scream out to their maker of McDonalds!  They what nothing but to suckle on the tit of the frozen yogurt down the street?  When the tiny gods do not get their sacrifices they become angry gods, bend on making the life of their servants nothing more then day in and day out misery!

This poor man that my kids are attacking
isn't actually related to us.  But this is what will
happen if you are cursed with their wrath!!!

Oh Curse you!  Dave Ramsey and all your financial prowess! 

Why must your words of wisdom incise me so, to the point of pain and suffering?  Why must I want to be more then a victim of this life that I have created for myself?!  Why can't I just blame my parents like everybody else and then continue my life of decadency in the complete ignorance of my financial portfolio?  Why must I long to be better then I am?

Is there a way to see outside the suffering?  Will there we rejoicing at the end of this never ending uphill marathon from hell?

Will I be able to make it to the other side with nothing but joy and hope renewed?

Will the tiny gods be happy with the home made donuts instead?  

Only time will tell....
and you...

O Budget

Fin 

Antenella