As in, the journal that you excitedly purchased after becoming a mom and swore you would write in diligently every day and record all of your precious child’s accomplishments?
Yup. That one.
You would think that as someone who enjoys writing, especially about motherhood and babies, and even occasionally gets paid to write about these topics, that I’d be excellent at keeping a journal.
Finally having the chance to sit down with a nice cup of cold coffee and a pack of Oreos a bowl of quinoa and watch four episodes of Grey’s Anatomy in a row?
YES. Sign me up. I freakin’ love naptime.
But the actual getting-child-to-nap part?
The 1.5 hour struggle, the reading of Elmo’s Night Before Christmas 12 times in a row even though it’s nowhere near Christmas, the tears, sweat, and complete and utter frustration?
The sun is shining, the birds are singing and your thighs are chafing because you thought it’d be fine to wear denim shorts on a ten minute walk to the grocery store. (…It’s never fine.)
This OOTD is perfect for drinking lemonade by the pool, or for waking up every day at 5:30AM with a toddler towering over you saying, “Playground? Playground? Go? Now?”
My first job was a grocery store cashier when I was fourteen. I wore a mint green vest and a floppy clip-on bow tie. (Publix: Where Shopping is a Pleasure.)
I once worked at a university campus during the summer, and one day a week, my job was to walk around the campus and flush every toilet. An entire day spent each week just flushing toilets. (I eventually grew to love it and I still have not ruled it out as a potential career one day.)
An indie coffee shop that I romanticized in my head, but in reality the owners would take pictures of the crumbs that I missed when sweeping and email them to me at home.
A hip barber shop where I had to talk about things like beard trims way too seriously for my liking.
I’ve worked in many, many different offices. Real estate law. Entertainment. Alumni Services. Property Management.
Out of all of these jobs, in all of those fields, I can safely say that none of them kick my ass as much as being a stay-at-home mom does. It’s like the weirdest, most demanding unpaid internship ever, with either the best boss or the worst boss, depending on how many naps have occurred that day.
Feel like taking a closer look?
Come join me and my daughter Lucy for a day! Don’t wear anything nice. Ignore the barking dog. Don’t try to pet the cat. And bring some something sweet, please.