On this blog. On writing letters to my grandparents. On sending emails to friends.
Please understand, I’ve been up to my ears in being a stay at home mom. It has been my own personal Hell.
Now, I know most of you are thinking, “Dear God, what the heck is wrong with her?” Let me put it this way: neither my son nor I have the personalities to be stay-at-home-with-each-other kind of family members. O is the greatest joy of my life. But sometimes I want to lock myself in the closet and not come out until his father gets home and puts him to bed. O is social. And energetic. Curious. A pain in the ass. He is helpful and wants to interact and jumps at any chance to be with you and do things with you. Unfortunately, his eagerness to close the dishwasher and turn it on does not bode well when I haven’t finished loading it and he starts it running while I’m in the middle of scraping oatmeal off of a bowl.
I’ve tried giving him tasks. I’ve even dragged his toys into the kitchen so I can get my stuff done while he plays. No go. So I end up engaged with him all day and trying to get all of my cooking/cleaning done while he naps. Thank God he naps. Its the only hour and a half I have a moment to myself. I just want a moment to myself. That’s all. To make dinner without little hands trying to grab the onion off the chopping board. Without O screaming “Look, Mama!” and me dreading to see what mess he’s made… I’m not cut out for this.
Don’t get me wrong, I think stay at home parents are great. The child has a primary caregiver around all the time. I just don’t know if I should be O’s primary caregiver. It’s like adult me has my baby brother trying to play with her all day long.
I thank the dear sweet Virgin Mary that O is orienting at Kindergarten this week. I can start dropping him off and leaving him there next Monday.