I have never wanted to be a stay at home mom. I take that back. Before I had kids I wanted to be at a stay at home mom. But since I had kids that has never been my desire.
Don't get me wrong. I think stay at home moms rock. More power to y'all. I couldn't hack it as a SAHM.
I'm a feminist at heart and I believe if you WANT to be a SAHM, go for it and if you WANT to work, go for it. Cliche? Yes. But it's what I believe.
I also love my job and I'm good at it and maybe I'm good at it b/c I love it or maybe I love it because I'm good at it....either way. People sort of think I'm weird b/c I'm not a doctor or lawyer or teacher or preacher or any of the things people who are passionate about their jobs usually are. (I'm still not telling you what I do - my company has a blogging policy and I'm not about to violate it. I will say there are cubicles and copy/fax machines that you want to go all Office Space on and our own version of TPS reports.)
But no matter how much I love my job, but being a mommy just rocks my socks off so much more. (Man, I'm full of cliches). And about three times a year I get this overwhelming urge (it is literally so overwhelming it affects me physically) that I just NEED to be at home w/my kids. I need to be a SAHM even if it is just for a few days and I need to do all the things I imagine SAHMS do: trips to the zoo, library, park and museum; baking cookies and muffins; finger painting and crafts w/ Popsicle sticks; lounging outside in the kiddie pool; planting a garden; sipping lemonade (or hot chocolate if its winter...) Well, you get the point.
So, here I am on Day 3 of my Stay-cation. So far we have: gone to library story time, taken O to Toy Story 3, taken Syd to the park and Orange Leaf (the Okie version of Pinkberry --- I think), taught my kids some Janis Joplin and Grateful Dead (hubs won't let them say "I'm a deadhead" oh well), made homemade pizzas and omelets and blueberry muffins and potty trained (sort of - that's a whole other blog) and played "pocket rosie" (that's ring around the rosie) and played "spiders," ran errands and almost called the fire department... I've also grocery shopped, gotten my eyebrows waxed (priorities, y'all), done dishes 8,000 times and mopped pee from the kitchen floor and taken/picked up my car from the shop. (It's good thing it's a stay-cation...the check to the shop was painful to write - but good news, my car is no longer a death trap! Okay, I doubt it ever really was, but they say that to you so you agree to the laundry list of repairs...)
So, Syd got these new pink cowgirl boots at Tar-jay yesterday and the girl will not take them off. She even slept in 'em, y'all. I'm trying to teach her to call them shit kickers but the hubs slightly disapproves..go figure :)
Here she is in hair bow, sunglasses and boots and happy as can be:
Owen has been as sharp and as wise ass as usual...
When he and Syd were pretending to be spiders and get me I feigned horror and said "oh no! Spiders! I'm so scared!" and he said, with a straight face "It's just me and Syd, mommy. We're not spiders. We only pretending." And when I caught the oven on fire (I just wanted to make sure our pizza crust was extra thin and crispy) I asked him "Should I call fireman Sam?" (note: Fireman Sam is on PBS) and Owen sighed and said "No, mommy, Fireman Sam does not live in HomaHoma City. You'll just call the HomaHoma City fireman." Y'all my son thinks I'm an imbecile.
But how cute is it that he can't say Oklahoma and he says "HomaHoma." Friggin adorable. I know I shouldn't encourage him to have a speech impediment, but he is only three.
Allow me to say the one thing I'm loving about being at home... eating so well. I made a gourmet omelet (ham, cheese, onions, tomatoes and jalapenos) and a gourmet pizza ('cept for the burnt part) and tonight I'm going to attempt to bake an entire chicken. Um, never done that before. We'll see how it goes. Maybe I may end up calling Fireman Sam after all. I'll keep you posted.
We're off to rock out and have a dancy party w/ Jason Boland and the Stragglers.