Plain ol' Mom

For 25 years, I worked 2 full-time jobs simultaneously. At least that's what psychologists and sociologists say. It was the time when my kids were growing up. No wonder I was always tired, worn out, uptight, and all around grumpy. All that work and no paycheck would make anybody mean.

I decided to stay home when I had children. It was a no-brainer. I had been working full-time for a doctor, but when the time came to start thinking of having children, I knew what was right for me.  I would stay home. And when I was 8 months pregnant with my first baby, I did. I stayed home with her. I'm not going to lie and say it was easy. It wasn't. I went from being an office manager and X-ray technician to changing poopy diapers and burping babies. No one thanked me for giving up my career. No one paid me, or took me to lunch, or gave me raises, or patted me on the back.  No one said "good job" or "couldn't have done it without you"-nope, no one. It was just my baby and me all alone in the house, all day, every day, until my husband came home from work.  I'd clean, cook, change diapers, rock my baby, and do laundry--honestly, sometimes it was as boring as it was overwhelmingly wonderful.

I eventually adjusted to my stay-at-home life, and 3 1/2 years later, a baby boy was born.  Life became busier then; adding to my list above, I now dealt with preschool and 3-year-olds' temper tantrums — along with a newborn.  I was coping with feelings of inadequacy and sleep deprivation, and again, no paycheck. I was told it would be worth it in the end. I blindly trusted. And 2 years later, baby boy number 2 was born. So, with a 5-year-old, a 2-year-old and a newborn in tow--my brain cells began to deteriorate. Shortly, though, a routine developed — there were school, homework, gymnastics, dance, drama class, Little League, football, basketball, doctor and dentist appointments, cleaning, laundry, cooking, taxiing, and so much more.  There wasn't time left over in my day to dwell on the fact that I had no life; they were my life--for the next 25 years anyway. And to tell the truth, I didn't mind it after a while. I was too busy to notice what I had become. In the words of my friend's little girl--I had become a plain ol' mom.

A lot of my friends had also given up their careers — we didn't have important titles, we didn't earn our own money, and we certainly didn't have a wardrobe. My wardrobe consisted of jeans, shirts, and flip flops. I had very few dresses and maybe 2 pairs of high heels — those were my church clothes.
I didn't have extra money for frequent trips to the hair or nail salon. No, my extra cash was spent on football cleats, baseball bats, and prom dresses.

To some, this might seem like complaining, but really, I'm bragging. I can't lie. I look at my kids, and to me, they are my badges of honor. Yes, I am honored to have been chosen to be their mother. To me, they are the best, the smartest, the most honorable people I have ever known. They are my paycheck. They are worth my hard work and my sleepless nights; they fill me with pride and a love that I've never known before. I watch them now, and my heart swells. They are awesome.

I have no regrets. None at all. They are parents themselves now, and making much the same choices my husband and I made. They are physically and mentally healthy. They are happy, and I am content. I made the right choice. And I proudly say--I was and will forever be a plain ol' mom.