Thursday, November 20, 2014

A Work-at-Home Mom's Ultimate Fantasy

Today, I'm absolutely knackered (and maybe have been watching too much of the British TV show "Call the Midwife"). I'm on the verge of throwing myself a small Pity Party, complete with Cheese and Whine and I-Scream.
Sorry, just my witty sense of humor...

This is a pretty rare occurrence, so I think you should join me.

I find myself fantasizing every day now, caught in a particular daydream at different points throughout my packed schedule; a daydream that is so amazing that I never want to come back to reality.

Ryan Gosling? Nope, not this time.

This fantasy involves my family- sometimes the kids, sometimes Hubby, sometimes the whole gang, looking right at me, holding out a hand, concern in their eyes, and saying, "Mom/Honey, what can I do to help you with everything?"

OMG, the bliss. I get all excited just thinking about it, then I'm plummeted back into reality and continue dusting, or vacuuming, or folding clothes.

I completely understood what I was getting myself into when Hubby and I got back together 3 years
ago. I had been a working/single mom for the 3 years prior to that, while we were separated, and when Hubby and I started talking reconciliation, he told me he wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom again.

Pretty sure he wanted someone to wash his undies and make his meatloaf, but I was completely cool with that, as I once rocked the whole stay-at-home-mom thing

So my days went from 8 hour tattoo shifts, to cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, grocery shopping, helping kids with homework and whatever else the house/family/life needed from me. I understood my responsibilities, and was completely fine with them.

As I started mastering my daily routine, I felt like adding more things that made me happy; meditation, lunch dates with friends, and my online store, selling things I hand-make. In the past year, the store has grown to the point where I'm now working 6-8 hours a day, 6-7 days a week.

Unfortunately, just because my store has gone from part-time to full-time, my housewife/stay-at-home-mom thing doesn't seem to go from full-time to part-time to accommodate. So now, I'm packing double duties into my day, and this transition is slapping me dead in the face.

I get that this is what I signed on for, and I fully understand that it was my choice to open an online business and stretch myself even further. I guess I just figured that if (which has now turned into when) my business really started doing well, my family would help me out more, and maybe, just maybe, even be excited about my newly-booming business and want to help out there, too.

Boy, was I wrong.

No one in my family is even remotely interested in my store. Making jewelry, oils, kits, blending bath herbs, making incense from scratch- none of it is appealing to anyone in the house except me (and the animals- they love the scents). Hubby loves the extra money it brings us, but even when I ask him for help just packaging up things to mail, I think 1 request out of 5 is actually granted.

So, fine. No one wants to help with my business stuff. Maybe that means they'll pitch in more around the house... right?

Yeah, I'll stop you there. That's not happening, either, on a daily basis. When I had my 24 hour stomach bug last weekend, Hubby cracked the whip on the kids to clean their rooms, bathroom, and do their downstairs chores, but come Sunday, when Mom was feeling better, the house looked like a tornado hit it again.

Maybe someone could just take out the trash without being told? The kids could offer to make macaroni and cheese with ground turkey mixed in for dinner (we called it Cheeseburger Surprise back when I was a single mom)? Someone grab some boxes and bubble wrap and help me prepare packages to ship out? Someone? Anything? Bueller... Bueller????

So, my days currently look like this:
  • Wake up around 6am, 7 if I am successfully able to tell the little voice inside me that wakes me up at 6am to fuck off. Prepare my to-do lists for the day, answer emails, print out orders for the day, shower.
  • Kids up, ready for school, pack lunches, take kids to school.
  • Back home, work for around 5 hours. Forget to eat most days. If I take a break from working, I clean or switch out laundry.
  • The Ginger gets home from school when I'm packing up orders to be mailed. Help him with his homework.
  • Run the packages to the post office on the way to pick up The Girl from school.
  • Hit the grocery store on the way home.
  • Get home, make dinner. 
  • Clean/straighten while dinner is cooking.
  • Eat, which is possibly my first actual meal of the day.
  • Work about another 2-4 hours while multitasking, hopefully catching up on "Call the Midwife." 
  • Collapse into bed between 10 & 11, maybe read a few pages of my book, maybe just crash out immediately. 
I know this isn't the most strenuous schedule known to any mother out there, but it's thrown me for a loop lately, that's for sure.

While yes, I'm throwing myself a mini Pity Party and sharing how I fantasize about my family members offering to help relieve some of my stress, I don't hate things right now. I love that my business is booming, and I love what I do for a living. I love the smell of a clean house, and love putting my ass on a clean toilet. I love the taste of a home-cooked meal, and love seeing my kids bring home good grades on their work. And the Super Mom in me loves when I can accomplish everything myself, without help.

But damn, all that loving is quite exhausting, and a helping hand from my loved ones every once in a while would greatly be appreciated.

I have friends who have helped me, and tell me to just let them know when I need help again. But I feel bad constantly taking them away from their lives, even if their plans were to be lazy and watch Netflix all day. They didn't decide to work at home; I did, and I accept everything that comes with that decision. I figured my family would take some interest, if not in my business, than in just helping out the person who cooks their meals and scrubs the floors they walk on.

Apparently, I'm wrong again. I hate being wrong, dammit.

Then, there's the side of me that feels guilty that I'm even fantasizing about receiving help with everything. Hubby goes to work each day, an 8+ hour shift. So why should I be asking him to help when he gets home, after having worked a full day himself?

The guilt doesn't last too terribly long, because Hubby's mentality is that he works 8+ hours a day, on the flightline, and makes the steady paycheck, so his time away from work is time to relax, not help me with stuff I'm doing. So the anger and frustration sets in with me, and just ends up fueling me to do more.

It's a pretty vicious, masochistic cycle, if you ask me. I want help, but don't ask for it because I feel guilty, but then get pissed when no one offers it.

Welcome to the mind of a woman.

A very tired woman, who is about to head upstairs with my cup of herbal tea, some biscuits cookies, turn on Netflix and bury myself deep into my pillows and comforter. My Pity Party is done, my Cheese and Whine consumed, my I-Scream devoured enough so that just a frothy ooze remains.

Fingers crossed I just find my groove here soon, and my fantasies can go back to Ryan Gosling offering to help around the house... without a shirt on...

If you enjoy Inklings, please take a second to just click the banner below. Each click = 1 vote, and you can vote once per 24 hours. I do happy dances when people vote!

If you like what you just read please click to send a quick vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs- The best mommy blog directory featuring top mom bloggers

Click banner to head to Amazon!


  1. Gahhh, I completely agree with this! It's so frustrating. Mind if I join the party? I love doing the housewife/mom stuff, there's moments I wouldn't trade for anything. There's also times when I'd rather have a gift certificate for Merry Maids than all the jewels in the world. I totally sympathize with the Mr working and kids being kids but seriously.... If I constantly have to chase the dogs to get your trash out of their mouths, go on a scavenger hunt for laundry after hearing whining about having nothing to wear or get the dry heaves because instead of rinsing the dishes off, they get tossed into the sink to make some horrifying concoction that's now clogging the drain, I'm gonna be grumpy at the end of the day. Sorry but the nice lady has left the building.

    1. Amen, lol. One of my biggest pet peeves are the bathrooms; still trying to figure out which one of the guys in the house has ZERO aim when it comes to the toilet. I'd bet money on the 10 year old, but you never know... LOL!
      Thanks for commenting!! ;)

  2. I feel your pain. All I wanted for my birthday from my family was to not have to buy or make my own cake. Did I say it nicely? Yes. Did it happen? No. Luckily for me, my friend Megan sent me a cake or it would have been a cakeless birthday indeed. And really, what's a pity party without cake? (awful!) Not the end of the world for sure, but still a slap in the face considering what I do for the rest of the family on a regular basis.

    If we lived closer, I'd want to help you because 1) you're cool and 2) I'd learn a whole bunch of neat things and 3) It makes me happy to help others. So hang in there, girlie. The rough edges will smooth out!

    1. Thanks, Brooke. If we lived closer, we'd probably be having too much damn fun to work, lol. "Sorry, customers, couldn't get your orders out today because Brooke and I couldn't stop giggling." Hehehe. And there's another fantasy born.... lol.

  3. I'd totally help you out. I decided long ago that I was not going to let my boys become entitled, lazy-around-the-house jerks like their dad (whom I love dearly, but is on my bad side at the moment). I hold the X-box, bikes and scooters hostage. One unloads the dishwasher, another loads after the third clears the table and gets all of the straggler cups from around the house to the sink.

    I've taught (kicking and screaming, but he's taught!) my oldest how to do laundry, and he will do his own if he's out of clothes. My rule is that it won't get washed unless it's in the hamper. Yes, I have to close the door to their rooms and bathrooms, but I can't deal with everything, work 8+ hours a day, edit my moms' books, photograph her books, refurbish furniture AND have a 100% clean house all the time. So, my house might be a little dusty, and I can guarantee you'll find some dog hair lying around, but it's presentable, smells like a pine forest instead of feet and ass, and the dishes are done. It's good enough, and that's perfect for me.

    Oh, I also drink lots of wine. And vodka. Vodka and me are likethis. That's how it's perfect for me.