I have just come off seven days of busy work in my job as a ED doc in the last eight and now I cannot sleep. Today, I was busy trying to catch up Mommy and farm chores – and no Mom I did not make it to the grocery store yet, but Brie, Brian and may have saved a calf and I did manage to get in a 14 minute mile. Maybe I’ll get to Wal-mart tomorrow. I was talking to Brian before he went to bed about how overwhelmed I can feel when I have worked several days in a row to come home to dishes in the sink, groceries to be bought, floors to be swept, and a mud room that is more mud than room. It sorta makes me want to go back to work. At least there I have a clear job description.
See, like many working Moms today I am not sure, nor have I ever been sure where I fit in as a “Mom”. Yes, I cook and I am really good at it, but I really suck at housecleaning. I see it as a equal partnership- Brian and the kids help make the mess, so they can help me clean it up. Unfortunately, the rest of my crew does not see my take on the equal partners cleaning deal. Oh, they will help, after a major meltdown and a hissy fit. They just don’t think a little dust and laundry in the living room is a problem.
I told Brian long before he ever married me that I was not, nor would I ever be a stay at home, cook and clean kind of girl. Having babies did not change that for me. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my kids and they are my bestest friends, but please, please let me go back to work after about a few days of them fussing and picking at each other. I can only take so much of that before I need to take care of an acute MI. So, yes, I did not spend today cleaning and going to the grocery store for bread, my kids can eat a cheese quesadilla just fine – instead I spent many long hours in the barn working on a sick little calf cleaning up coyote wounds, getting rid of pus, giving shots, making sure the little one was nursing, listening to my husband and father-in-law decide the best plan of action for us little Indians (read argue and fuss till Brie and I were hot and tired but as we could not override them we just let them work it out between them), and make sure the momma cow and little one we’re all tucked in for the night. And after tucking my crew in, running, and sorta swiping at the kitchen (ok, I put all the really smelly messy dishes in the sink) Brian and I were back to the barn to check the calf one more time before bed.
So, yes, I may not make it for every school function. I may forget to have my kids sell whatever for school fund raisers. I may not remember to make a homemade item for a bake sale and my daughters do it for me. (They are awesome like that) And to my family every lasting shame I may not be at church when service occurs, but that does not me I honor or care less about my Lord or my kids. I care about them both more than most will ever know. I care about my kids because they give me strength to be a mom, as I am, not perfect – just me. And my Lord because he gave me the brains and heart to get the education and desire to care about helping people in the first place. So, I am tired of seeing on Facebook and the Internet and Pinterest, post that can make me feel less as as person and less as a Mom. I have it easy compared to some, there are many single parents out there with tougher lots than mine. (And yes I know that it’s not all stay at home moms just a few because I am blessed- really blessed to have some awesome stay at home moms as friends that help me with my kids when I am working and cannot get them somewhere – thanks ,more than I can ever say-you know who you are)
I guess what I am really tired of is labels.
Why does it matter if I am a doctor/nurse or a farmer or a stay at home mom ar a working mom or a purple people eater??? It’s like why does it matter if I am strait or gay or black or white ??? Cannot we get passed all this ???
Am I gone a lot? Yes, but even my kids will tell you it’s worth it. Cause I know the truth in life is that quality time with people you love matters, and everything else not so much.
I would like to note that the opinions expressed are my own and not my husbands or my kids or my in-laws or my family’s or my employer.