Today I am a mom. It's 11 a.m. and I haven't showered yet. I have fed three kids breakfast, nursed and had floor time with Baby T. I've shortened pants for Big T and sewn up the split seam in Kid Two's school sweatpants (using the nifty blanket stitch I learned as part of a fourth-grade art project). I've spent an hour picking up -- dirty socks from the floor to laundry hamper, books from every room back into Kid One's room, empty juice boxes from Kid One's room to the trash, six (I counted) pens and pencils from the floor to receptacles on the desk and kitchen counter. I could spend another hour without coming close to running out of things that need to be put back in place.
And for today, this is nice. But I'm glad I get to go to work some days (where I should spend an hour cleaning my desk, come to think of it), and I'm glad that most days at home I have other things to do. If I were a full-time mom, I like to think my house would be cleaner, but it probably wouldn't. The only way it would be cleaner is if I worked a lot more and hired someone to clean. Or maybe when the kids grow up and someone invents a dog that doesn't shed.
The reason they call magazines like "Real Simple" (which features a $500 pair of boots; that's simple?) aspirational is that they show things -- wardrobes, meals, home decorating -- the way we would like them to be. I know that's how they are for some people -- I've seen some lovely homes, even some inhabited by children. But I've seen more that look like mine.
So I'll go on being thankful that I can be home some days and work some days. It's kind of like living in Chicago where you get to enjoy all four seasons, occasionally all in one day. And I'm thankful for Phyllis, our godsend of a babysitter, who makes it easier to leave Baby T on the days I do work. And I'm thankful Baby T is still sleeping, so I can go take a shower.
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