Just Words from a FTM.

FTM- a full time mom.

Yep, that’s me. I don’t have a desk job. I don’t put in labor at a factory or at a supermarket. I don’t have to deal with the general public at all unless I take my children to the doctor or to the grocery store or mall.
But, don’t underestimate me. My job is far more important than people give me credit for. I’m a mother.
My job is to raise human beings. My job is actually pretty intimidating because I have to teach these young children how to become humans. How to act and speak. How to use a toilet. How to use eating utensils. How to brush their teeth and hair. That it’s not okay to hit, slap, kick or bite people. It’s not okay to color on anything but paper, canvas or easels. Etc.
When children are born, they know nothing. I think they may have somewhat of a natural instinct to suck on the breast, but I am pretty sure even that has to be somewhat taught.
This is my job.

I love my job. And yes, I’ve been a mother AND worked a full time job too. That was easy. I dropped Olivia off at daycare and spent the rest of my day with adults – working.
I’ve worked a part time job too. I’d wake up in the morning, feed Olivia, bathe her and get her ready, take her to the sitter and work for four or five hours and then go pick her up. The rest of the night was daily easy because dinner, bath time and bed time.
But the toughest job has been being a stay at home, full time mom. I get up early, fix breakfast, make sure my kid doesn’t choke while eating, I constantly pick up eggs or milk she’s thrown off of her table, I wipe the floor, I pick up the bowl she’s tossed after being “all done”, I wrestle with her to wipe down her hands and face, then I start cleaning. I wash the dishes, start a load of laundry, light the smelly candle so it doesn’t smell like eggs and bacon all day, change a diaper, put the trash outside, vacuum, turn on Mickey Mouse for the 100th time, sweep and mop, pull a clingy kid off of my leg, disinfect counters, fridge, table, chairs, furniture…
Then it’s nap time. Holy. Hell.
I fight. I wrestle. I fix juice a thousand times. I wrap the blanket around her in a specific way she likes it a million times. I replay “Frozen” and “Love is an Open Door” 2 million times, I fix more juice, I sternly remind her it’s nap time, I plead, I may raise my voice a little, I whisper, I try… anything. “Just go to sleep, Olivia.”
Finally, she’s asleep. “Thank you, Jesus…”
I try to make my way out of the bed, slowly, so I don’t wake her up. The floor creaks and she sits straight up – “MAMAAAAAA”. And the process starts over.
So then, after she’s finally asleep, I either take a nap or I get up to finish cleaning. Sometimes, if my chores are done, I catch up on TV. That’s a real treat.
When she wakes up, she is full blown hyper. We eat lunch, play, read books, talk, watch Mickey Mouse, wrestle, jump, scream, swim in the bathtub, whatever she wants to do. For hours, I tell ya. Hours.
Then, it’s bath time. She loves this part of the day, so I let her thoroughly enjoy it. Santa even brought her some bath paint to decorate the tub.
After bath time, we usually settle down for bed. Snuggle on the couch and watch tv. But other unusual times, she is still amped with energy. These are the times I know she will be up until 12 am. :/
So, we play and play until we can’t play anymore and then she is tired. She’s so beyond tired that she can’t go to sleep. There is a lot of crying involved at this point in the day. It’s exhausting putting her to sleep. Suddenly, she wants everything she didn’t want earlier – a blanket, a pillow, a puppy, a cup, juice, “Door” (love is an open door… that song… I could rip my eardrums out”, “back back back!!!!” (“scratch my back!”).
I try really hard, but by the end of the day I sometimes just want to leave her there to pitch a fit alone.
Now, I forgot to add in the fact that I’m pregnant and due in 26 days. Yes. I’m a freaking whale. I’m doing all of this with a hyper toddler, with a hugeeeeee belly, and hardly any energy.

I also didn’t add in if we go out in public. That’s a real story of its own.

Anyway, my point is, I do this every single day of my life. I don’t get vacation, I don’t get “sick leave” or FMLA. I don’t get to have weekends off. Every single day. No breaks, no leaving. This kid needs me.

So, the next time you say, “oh you’re so lucky you don’t have a job”, just remember, I have a pretty important job. Being a mom.


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