A Day In The Life Of A Stay-At-Home Mom

Mike, a burgeoning country music fan, shared this music video with me recently.  The song is titled, Mr. Mom, by Lonestar.  It's hilarious, and unfortunately, not too far from reality some days. 

Watching the video reminded me of two recent incidents.  The first happened a few weeks ago when we were taking a walk around the neighborhood one evening after dinner. I was in charge of walking Guinness, which, at first blush, may seem easier than being in charge of the boys.  But, to be clear, walking Guinness  involves intervening when he tries to attack every dog we pass, making sure he doesn't maul innocent children who want to pet him and pull his tail, and surveying the scene to find items that could be used to pick up poop when Guinness squats for the second time and you've already thrown away the only plastic bag that you brought with you and already used for his first bowel movement.  I digress.  Mike was responsible for the boys.  He loaded them into the wagon, which has facing seats, and gave each of them a toy to occupy them during the ride. Want to guess what he gave them?!  Plastic golf clubs!!!! I don't think we were out of the driveway before the golf clubs started swinging.  The giggles were short lived, and soon replaced by tears and screaming, which I suppose is better than black eyes and goose eggs on the forehead!

And, yesterday, as I'm trying to prepare dinner, I had to stop to fish chunks of bloated, soggy dog food out of Guinness' water dish.  Apparently the boys find dog toys, food and water far more entertaining than their own toys.  Gavin often roots around in Guinness' basket of toys looking for something to play with and frequently walks around with a dirty squeaky dinosaur dog toy hanging out of his mouth.  And, I'm constantly removing dog food from Gavin's mouth and reminding him that dog food isn't for little boys.  They both like to put dish towels, scraps of paper, replacement swiffer pads, bouncy balls, Hotwheel cars, etc. in Guinness' water dish.  Anyway, as I'm down on my hands and knees mopping the dog water up, fingers dripping with soggy dog food, Ryan grabs his camera and yells, "Hey Mom, say cheese!"  Glad he always decides to photograph me during my finer moments!

So, this goes out to all those dads out there, like Mike, who frequently come home to utter chaos and destruction and wonder why Mom is wild eyed, frazzled, exhuasted, near tears, and got nothing accomplished during the day.  Just to illustrate, the other day Mike walked in the door after work to find Gavin stripped down to his diaper alternating between playing with the knobs on the stove or beating on a glass mixing bowl with a metal spoon, toys hidden in the overflowing Diaper Genie (which smells so awful we refer to it as Devil's Breath), Ryan sitting on the toilet screaming, "I'm done" begging for someone to come wipe him, Guinness barking because he senses an approaching storm that's several states away, alarm system going off, phone ringing off the hook, Batman hanging from the window blinds, Nerf darts stuck to the walls, and me frantically trying to heat frozen TV dinners in the microwave because, seriously, who has time to make a homemade meal amidst all this?! 

Enjoy this ode to working fathers who long to switch places with their stay-at-home wives and remember, "If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wb5b20FR2kQ