SAHM angst. Shut up, me.

The baby is walking his way around the room, holding on to the wall, his toy basket, the coffee table, the bookshelves, the couches. And he keeps looking back at me to see if his current spot is Officially Sanctioned. Is Mommy going to wave? Is she going to say, "No no, Jack!" Is she going to run over here and swipe me up and plop me down on the other side of the room?

I now spend my mornings and afternoons as Living Room Cop. Sure there are diaper changes and feedings and naps thrown in there somewhere, but most of our day is spent negotiating territory. The bottom shelf of the built in bookcase is his. We took out the subwoofer and the TiFaux computer and replaced it with a basket full of primary-colored baby toys. The rocking chair is not his. I finally turned it around to face the wall so he wouldn't pull up on it and slam it back into the corner, chortling away. It looks like someone is in perpetual time out. There are no more forbidden items on the coffee table, which is lined with a thick border of rubbery foam. I've left the purplish-pink Chinese vase on the floor and kept the scrolls inside because I'm kind of hoping he breaks it.

Between the constant wars over what is his and what is mine, the weather that doesn't allow for even quick walks to see the ducks, teething, screwed up sleep and a first trimester that's given my previous first trimester the You Thought THAT Was Morning Sickness, You Weakling? Take That! Smackdown, I've been a bit of a nutcase lately. I was emailing with another pregnant friend, trying to figure out if we're just disillusioned with the whole Stay At Home Mom thing, or if pregnancy has more to do with it. Because when you're that tired and also thinking you're going to barf every ten minutes, you don't always feel like fixing the baby lunch.

I've been feeling sort of pointless. I stay home all day with this kid, who I adore, but who doesn't really do it for me in the human interaction department. I don't earn any money. The only thing I'm in charge of is the furniture. I don't have any good gossipy work stories to tell Phillip when we're both home in the evening. I look like a schlub all day and sometimes I don't even get out of the house to check the mail. And now I'm going to have TWO BABIES. Oh dear God.

I was trying to tell Phillip all of this the other night. And of course I was trying to say it in a way that didn't sound like "I feel worthless!" and "I have no purpose!" Because I know how silly that sounds. I told him that when he waltzes into the house and makes suggestions for sleeping or eating or whatever, I get annoyed. Not because they're bad suggestions, but because that is MY job. I was unreasonably incensed when Phillip forgot to put our last new baby appointment on his calendar because he has all these other important things going on, but this is all I have in MY world.

I knew being a SAHM would include all of this. I really did. I didn't know exactly what it would feel like, of course, but I wasn't clueless about the daily drudgery of babycare. What I did think was that being a SAHM would be more freeing than what I was doing before. I never liked my 9 to 5 job. I was looking forward to being my own boss, having the freedom to go out during the day, the freedom to try the things I've always wanted to do.

But I haven't done any of that. You are obviously not your own boss when you stay home with a baby. Getting out is a struggle for me and God, I hate admitting that. I've written a few things here and there and built a website (that has yet to go live), but for the most part I'm lucky if I can pound out my post for Parenting once a week. So much for being Who I Really Am as a SAHM.

Once I found out I was pregnant all of these things were magnified a gazillion times. I was so tired and I kept thinking, "How am I going to feed two babies? How I am going to put two babies to sleep?" It was January, the worst weather month of the year. Phillip was working a lot and in one week I officially threw up more times than the ENTIRE time I was pregnant with Jack.

But it also occurred to me that I was looking at things wrong. I am, after all, doing exactly what I want to be doing. I don't want to go back to work. I don't want to leave Jack with someone else. I don't want anyone else to be in charge of the furniture. What if I was looking at being a mom as just that thing I do when I'm not busy trying to figure out the writing thing or the being involved in lots of activities thing? What if I am just supposed to BE A MOM right now and try and find the holiness and "authentic self-ness" in that?

Which is where the domestic monastery stuff comes in. And also the introduction to Suze Orman's book about women and money, believe it or not. But you know, I don't have time for that right now since the baby is trying to throw all my Harry Potter books off the shelf and I have to clean things up for the moms group I'm hosting this morning. So more on this later. Some day. Oh, and I suppose I should tell you the How I Found Out story which goes something like, "Huh?" and "Seriously?" and "ACT OF GOD." Also for later!

Comments

[Lisa]

Looking forward to the "how I found out" post. Even though I don't know what it's like to be sick-pregnant in the dark months of the year, I would say count your blessings for having a baby who's due in the warm and sunny months. Because bringing Olivia home in November, the beginning of the dark and cold months, was ROUGH. I just felt so trapped inside the house all the time, and what a joy it would have been to just be able to open a window, for heaven's sake, and let the outside noises in. I found those first couple of months SO isolating because the baby was fussy and it was a pain to go anywhere, so we didn't, which resulted in SEVERE CABIN FEVER, which couldn't be remedied because of the cold weather. ACK! If I have anything to do with it (and let's face it, I won't have any control over this at all), our next child will arrive in the Spring so I have many warm and sunny months to help me cope before heading into the cold season.

[Jess]

I think you are doing great. And that all your feelings and worries are totally relatable. It's a hard balance to strike.

[Jen]

I work from my house and I was surprised at how bored I was with no one to talk to. I feel your pain.

[Angela]

Oh, no, baby!! NOT the Harry Potter books! Those are priceless treasures that should be honored and revered.

Some day he'll understand...

[Manda]

SO, is it not cool that our kids will be only months apart? I find it cool.
Also, days later, I LOVE YOUR SEATBELT PURSE!

[Elizabeth]

Um, hi, are you me?
I have felt all this many times over, and more.
I think some of my issues stem from the fact that I never liked working before, so I assumed staying home would be AWESOME! Because SAHM=NOT WORKING=AWESOME. Then when it turned out the be the hardest thing I've ever done, and also mind bendingly boring, I felt, confused?
All I can say is that I have had to find some of my own stuff to do (running, blogging, crafting) and it has helped A LOT. I feel a bit more like myself who just happens to also take care of my kid.

[Elizabeth]

Also, I think you should give yourself oodles of credit (I know I do) for even being coherent at this point, because I cannot imagine raging morning sickness AND a toddler. That's my worst nightmare. I really hope you feel better soon.

[Emily]

I loved this post because I felt like that too. Now that Asher is older though, I feel less like I'm just taking care of a baby and more like I'm teaching a child something about the world. That sounds really high and mighty, but the older he gets, the more value I see in being home with him. My mother-in-law always told me that when he was born - that he really wouldn't need me as much as a newborn as he would after he turned 18 months old, and I never believed her because MY BABY IS SO TINY and HE NEEDS ME, HIS MOTHER. But he really does need me more at this age, and I like it that way.

Also, I really only left this comment because I am DYING to hear the rest of the pregnancy story. DYING, I tell you.