A Day in the Life of a Stay-Home Mom, a personal essay by (C) Deb Evans

written when my daughters were both under two

I meant to take a shower today. It's a little after midnight and, somehow, I never got around to it. As I lay in the darkness, I relive the day that has passed.

It starts a little after seven when my two-month-old daughter wakes up. As I cuddle my nursing baby, I think about the day ahead. Taking a shower is somewhere near the top of my list of things to do. By 7:30, my little one drifts back to sleep. I listen for signs of life from my 17-month-old in the other room, but all is quiet. Now would be a good time for that shower, I think as I stumble past my husband. Just when I hit the bathroom door, however, my toddler lets out a squeal. She's awake.

My husband blows me a kiss as he heads out the door. I go into my older daughter's room and flash my brightest smile. "Good morning sunshine!" I say as I scoop her out of the crib and give her a big hug. She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tightly. I carry her into the living room and we sit awhile, just holding on to each other.

I change her diapers and clothes, then settle her onto the couch to watch "Puzzle Place" while I fix breakfast. While she eats, I straighten up the kitchen and wash dishes. She's still engrossed in the TV, so I sneak back to my room to brush my teeth and dress. My choices are limited because I forgot to do laundry yesterday. (That reminds me, I forgot to do laundry today, too.)

It's around ten by now and the baby is starting to stir I sit next to her and watch her wake up. She stretches her little arms and legs, then arches her back and neck. She starts sucking, turning her head from side to side searching for milk. I change her diaper and settle in for another round of nursing. She must be going through a growth spurt because it seems like she nurses a hundred times today.

My toddler finds a book and sits next to me "reading". She points at picture after picture, naming objects. "Horse," she says, nodding gravely as she points. "Yes, that is a horse," I say. "Very good. What's that?" I point to another picture. "Pig," she says, nodding again.

The baby finishes nursing and I put her in her bouncy seat. My toddler sits on the floor with some crayons and paper. "No mouth," I say over and over as I straighten the living room. About five minutes after I finish, my toddler has everything, plus some new stuff, back on the floor.

This article has been running through my head for a while, but I forget phrases, thoughts, even entire ideas as soon as I think of them. The baby starts fussing. I pick her up and start looking for a pen and paper. By the time I find them, I have forgotten why I was looking.

Inexplicably, it's lunchtime. I realize this when my husband comes in from work and asks "What's for lunch?" He's clearly aggravated by the blank look on my face. I think about taking a shower while he's home for lunch, but he tells me he needs to go to the hardware store. He'll be working on the boat after work. At my stricken look, he says "But we'll spend the whole day together tomorrow." Oh yeah. Tomorrow's Saturday. It makes no difference to me.

The afternoon goes by in the same whirlwind of inactivity. After lunch, I lay the toddler down for a nap. She talks to her bear instead of sleeping. I notice with pleasant surprise that the baby is asleep. The peace doesn't last. She wakes up, unusually fussy. I comfort her. She calms, but as soon as I lay her down, she cries. I try to pay bills, open the mail, write - all with one hand.

I force myself to stop and sit. I rock and coo to my baby, but my mind is racing, filled with all the thing I need to do that aren't getting done. But my baby needs me. As soon as she goes to sleep, my toddler's up. Again I try to write, but she's climbing on me, kissing me. I put my work aside and kiss  her back.

My husband gets home from work. I look around in frustration. I've been busy all day, yet I have nothing to show for it.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I'm tired," I snap.

"Well, I'm tired too," he snaps back. "I worked all day."

Night eventually comes and both my little ones are sound asleep. For a moment, I give in to frustration. I'm so tired and nobody understands. I'm angry with my husband. I'm angry with myself.

Then I remember all of the wonderful things that happened today. Cuddling my daughters. Watching my baby sleep. Getting a million kisses from my toddler. Bursting with pride at their accomplishments. Being a part of their lives. I smile smugly, thinking how lucky I truly am.

I think about taking a shower. It's after midnight. If I'm lucky, I have three hours until another mealtime. I decide to sleep. As I drift off, I remember something I heard at my "Mommy's Club".

"I need to go back to work full-time so I can get some rest."

And miss these wonderful days? Not a chance.

(C) Deb Evans