There was an article in the Washington Post that I thought summed it up rather well...
Why don't friends with kids have time?
by Carolyn Hax (The Washington Post)
Dear Carolyn: Best friend has child. Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, ect. Me (no kids): What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group.....OK, I've talked to parents, I don't get it. What do stay-at-home-moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners ... I do all those things, too. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events); I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy, but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks have the same questions. -Tacoma, Wash.
Dear Tacoma: Relax and enjoy. You're funny. Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.Or, you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.So, because it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, cleaned, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces checkout-line screaming.It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15. It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.It's doing all this while con-currently teaching virtually everything - language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spend all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first ten minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself. - Carolyn
SO TRUE! The part that really stood out to me was: "It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15." At any given time, I have CLEAN laundry that looks like this:
The sad thing is that this is only two loads of laundry...this was a good day. On a bad day, there could be 4-5 loads littering not only the entire couch but the surrounding tables and floor as well. Two loads like this would take me maybe 10 minutes to complete uninteruppted...however, this is usually how the day plays out:
Mommy: Ayris, I'm going to try and fold some clothes upstairs. It's not going to take me long so can you please stay down here (because if Ayris comes upstairs then Asher screams at the bottom of the stairs because neither of us are there) and TRY not to make your brother mad???
Ayris: Sure.
(30 seconds later)
Mommy: Ayris! What are you doing? I told you to stay downstairs?!
Ayris: Oh, I just wanted to see what you were doing.
Mommy: I told you what I was going to be doing...did you not believe me?
Without giving her time to respond, I inform her she needs to go back downstairs.
(A minute and a half later...)
Ayris: M-O-O-O-O-O-M-M-M-M!!!
Mommy: What Ayris? You don't have to yell, I'm right up here in the loft (which she is well aware of because she just visited me there)!
Ayris: I'm hungry, come downstairs and help me get some food. (The kitchen is closed off by a baby gate as well)
Mommy: Alright. Hold On.
(10 minutes later...after we stood staring into the refrigerator trying to decide if we wanted some cheese, celery, raisens or donuts...I know, tough decision right?! I'm rolling my eyes right now thinking of the 2 seconds it would have taken me to make a beeline for the donuts. After getting annoyed at the length of time it was taking to make this decision, I opted to just give her all 4 things, assuming this would limit the number of times I'd be called back down to the kitchen because she had changed her mind)
Ayris: M-O-O-O-O-O-M-M-M-M!!!
Mommy: WHAT!?! (Beginning to lose my patience)
Ayris: I need some apple juice!
Patience G-O-N-E. Was I not just IN the kitchen? Last I checked, that's where the apple juice was too, so why wasn't this request made 10 minutes ago?
It's at this point that an intelligent mother would just give up on doing the laundry until the kids naptime rolled around but I'm not that smart so I decide I'm going to give it another go. Seriously, it's a 10 minute job...it's not a lot to ask for two children to give their mother 10 minutes, is it?
Why don't friends with kids have time?
by Carolyn Hax (The Washington Post)
Dear Carolyn: Best friend has child. Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, ect. Me (no kids): What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group.....OK, I've talked to parents, I don't get it. What do stay-at-home-moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners ... I do all those things, too. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events); I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy, but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks have the same questions. -Tacoma, Wash.
Dear Tacoma: Relax and enjoy. You're funny. Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.Or, you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.So, because it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, cleaned, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces checkout-line screaming.It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15. It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.It's doing all this while con-currently teaching virtually everything - language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spend all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first ten minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself. - Carolyn
SO TRUE! The part that really stood out to me was: "It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15." At any given time, I have CLEAN laundry that looks like this:
The sad thing is that this is only two loads of laundry...this was a good day. On a bad day, there could be 4-5 loads littering not only the entire couch but the surrounding tables and floor as well. Two loads like this would take me maybe 10 minutes to complete uninteruppted...however, this is usually how the day plays out:
Mommy: Ayris, I'm going to try and fold some clothes upstairs. It's not going to take me long so can you please stay down here (because if Ayris comes upstairs then Asher screams at the bottom of the stairs because neither of us are there) and TRY not to make your brother mad???
Ayris: Sure.
(30 seconds later)
Mommy: Ayris! What are you doing? I told you to stay downstairs?!
Ayris: Oh, I just wanted to see what you were doing.
Mommy: I told you what I was going to be doing...did you not believe me?
Without giving her time to respond, I inform her she needs to go back downstairs.
(A minute and a half later...)
Ayris: M-O-O-O-O-O-M-M-M-M!!!
Mommy: What Ayris? You don't have to yell, I'm right up here in the loft (which she is well aware of because she just visited me there)!
Ayris: I'm hungry, come downstairs and help me get some food. (The kitchen is closed off by a baby gate as well)
Mommy: Alright. Hold On.
(10 minutes later...after we stood staring into the refrigerator trying to decide if we wanted some cheese, celery, raisens or donuts...I know, tough decision right?! I'm rolling my eyes right now thinking of the 2 seconds it would have taken me to make a beeline for the donuts. After getting annoyed at the length of time it was taking to make this decision, I opted to just give her all 4 things, assuming this would limit the number of times I'd be called back down to the kitchen because she had changed her mind)
Ayris: M-O-O-O-O-O-M-M-M-M!!!
Mommy: WHAT!?! (Beginning to lose my patience)
Ayris: I need some apple juice!
Patience G-O-N-E. Was I not just IN the kitchen? Last I checked, that's where the apple juice was too, so why wasn't this request made 10 minutes ago?
It's at this point that an intelligent mother would just give up on doing the laundry until the kids naptime rolled around but I'm not that smart so I decide I'm going to give it another go. Seriously, it's a 10 minute job...it's not a lot to ask for two children to give their mother 10 minutes, is it?
(3 minutes later)
Asher is now screaming his head off because Ayris has taken his most prized possession:
and is now sitting on top of it:
Mommy: Ayris!! Give Asher his bear.Ayris: NO!
Mommy: Remember our conversation about telling mommy no?
(Silence)
Mommy: You don't want me to come down there!
Ayris gives Asher his bear but takes his bottle. Instead of screaming this time, Asher picks up his jedi sword and bashes Ayris on the top of her head. Now Ayris is crying...
Still refusing the idea of just leaving the laundry be, I start trying to give a lesson from upstairs.
Mommy: Ayris, why did Asher hit you over the head?
Ayris: I don't know (in between sobs)
Mommy: You have NO idea why Asher just hit you on the head? None whatsoever?
Ayris: Maybe because I took his bottle?
Mommy: I think you're probably right. Maybe you should give him a hug and tell him you're sorry?
She looks at me like she's pondering why in the world she'd ever want to do that but ultimately decides that she'll give it a go.
Asher pushes her back and she falls down...why on earth would he want a hug from his theif of a sister...she deserved that knock on the head (I can see Asher thinking).
Now Ayris is crying again. I decide to walk downstairs (finally) to resolve the dispute myself. I put Ayris on the couch and Asher on the recliner and I tell them that they are both going to sit in their respective spots without talking, touching or looking at one another for the next 10 minutes WHILE I FINISH THE LAUNDRY. I put in a dvd of The Jungle Book 2 since it kept both of their attention yesterday for a staggering 20 minutes (mind you, I was in the same room at the time and they seem to be better behaved if I'm actually with them).
I proceed back upstairs. Obviously I'm as quick as my children when it comes to learning when to cut my losses.
(30 seconds later)
Ayris: MOM!
Mommy: What Ayris?
Ayris: The movie is skipping...come fix it.
I decide the laundry can wait until the weekend when my mother has Ayris for church and I'm down to one kid. Granted, its only Monday at this point and there's bound to be another 3-4 loads added onto the two I already have but when my pile looks pretty much like what it did when I started
I decide that it's not worth the 72 hours it's going to take to complete my project. Honestly, it's probably far easier to get dressed in the morning when all you have to do is walk out to the couch and dig around. It's a one stop shop versus having to rummage through the dresser AND the closet just to find something to wear. Perhaps I should be thanking my children for allowing me such a time saving discovery. This also allows Ayris to pick out her own clothes...all of them, instead of being unable to reach the top two/three drawers of her dresser which is where the most important item of clothing is; the all too often neglected panties that my daughter is unable to reach. I am guaranteed that Ayris will change into some clean underwear (albeit a cat hair or two) at least once a day by incorporating my new laundry service.I'm posting below another one of my favorite forwards about mom's and what it is they do all day. Before I became a stay at home mom, I was all excited about all the extra time I'd have. I'd be able to have the house cleaned, the laundry done and anything else that needed taking care of and when it was done, I'd have time to spare! Unfortunately that *dream* has yet to come to fruition.
A man came home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard.
The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house and there was no sign of the dog.
Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. In the front room the TV was loudly blaring a cartoon channel, and the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing.
In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.
He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened.
He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls.
As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel. She looked up at him, smiled, and asked how his day went.
He looked at her bewildered and asked, "What happened here today?"
She again smiled and answered, "You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world did I do today?"
"Yes," was his incredulous reply.
She answered, "Well, today I didn't do it."
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