What I Do All Day as a Stay-at-Home-Mom

My violin student recently asked me, “Don’t you get bored all day just sitting around doing nothing?”

Of course I was totally insulted and replied, “I don’t sit around doing nothing!”

“Well what do you do?”

“I cook, clean, do the laundry, pay bills, take care of Mari, and… um… other stuff?”

To be honest, I couldn’t really think of everything I do during an average day. I know I stay busy all day, but my student had a point: What exactly do I do all day??? I took a couple of days to pay close attention to my daily tasks, and ended up with the following list:

7:27 a.m. – Alarm goes off. First thought: “When is my next opportunity to sleep? And why the f$%k am I so sweaty?” Didn’t sleep well because I was playing with my blog until midnight, and then each of the kids woke me up in the middle of the night, one because her covers were messed up, the other because he was scared. In spite of how tired I am, I don’t believe in hitting the snooze button (those 10 minutes aren’t real sleep) so I drag my ass out of bed and force myself to put clothes on. But not a bra, because I don’t do underwire before 10:00a.m. Brush teeth. While brushing, look at dirty bathroom sink and think today will be the day I’ll finally clean our bathroom. Laugh at myself because I know there’s no way in hell that is happening. Today is laundry day.

7:30 a.m. – Let the dog out to pee. Feed him. Wish I didn’t have a dog because it just means extra shit for me to do. Feel really guilty about wishing I didn’t have a dog, because after all he’s the only one in the house who consistently listens to me and always loves me, even when I’m an asshole. Sit on kitchen floor with dog and let him lick me in the mouth.

7:40 a.m. – Say a prayer that the next five minutes will go smoothly. Enter Lucas’ room and gently rub his back. “It’s time to wake up, sweetie,” I whisper. “Scratch my back,” he grumbles. I do. “Under my shirt!” he groans. Oh right; under the shirt. I forgot. Duh. DON’T ANGER THE BEAST. I try to think of super-awesome stuff that is going to happen today to entice Lucas out of bed without any screaming (on his part) or throwing toys in the garbage (on my part). But alas, it is an ordinary day, filled with ghastly dreadful things like school, homework, and violin practice. Mari, age 4, appears in Lucas’ doorway, already completely dressed, smiling and waiting for me to tell her how wonderful she is for getting dressed without being told. Ten minutes later, with minimal threats and only one 30-second bout of crying (Lucas this morning; sometimes it’s me), Lucas ends up parked in front of bowl of cereal.

8:00 a.m. – Make Lucas’ lunch – everything is organic because it helps with his ADHD. Every time I make his lunch, I feel like a kick-ass mom. Except for when I’m screaming at him to hurry up while I’m making his lunch… then I just feel like an adequate mom.

8:15 a.m. – Make my coffee in a to-go cup. Drink three sips and run to the bathroom to poop.

8:30 a.m. – Two minutes until we have to leave for school. Lucas declares he has to poop. His average poop-time is 10 minutes. I make him squeeze one out in two, and feel like an asshole for making him hold in whatever poop still needed to come out.

8:45 a.m. – Somehow, after five-billion reminders and lots of yelling at Lucas to eat his breakfast, brush his teeth, and get dressed (Mari always does all of this without me having to say a single thing, and gloats the whole time like an obnoxious goody-two-shoes), we are at school. As he gets out of the car, I tell Lucas that I love him 45 times as a desperate attempt to make up for the last 45 minutes of yelling. One “love you” for each minute of yelling.

9:00 a.m. – Walk the dog. Think about all the crap I have to do today and wish I didn’t have a dog. Pick up his poop and wish I didn’t have a dog. Feel super-guilty about wishing I didn’t have a dog and let him lick me in the mouth some more once we’ve gotten back inside.

9:20 a.m. – Throw in a load of laundry. Actually, there is no “throwing.” Both of my kids are disgusting slobs so there are about 40 stains that need to be treated. “Throwing” in a load of laundry takes 15 minutes.

9:50 a.m. – Grocery shopping. I forgot to eat breakfast so I buy stupid stuff like chicken nuggets, pistachios, and blueberry muffin mix, and make plans to eat it all that day. I consider ice-cream, but… that’s going too far. I make a mental note to exercise… tomorrow.

10:50 a.m. – Unload the groceries from the car and put everything away. Mari says “Mommy, since I was so well-behaved at the grocery-store, can I watch a movie?” And because she’s a f$%king adorable evil-mastermind of manipulation, I start a show for her on the TV. Lately her big obsession is Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Michelangelo is her favorite.

11:15 a.m. – Move laundry from washer to dryer. Wonder if I’ll get a chance today to work on my blog or say something witty on my Facebook Page. Or maybe I’ll be able to squeeze in a nap. God I f$%king hate laundry. Stain-treat and start a second load.

11:35 a.m. – Husband texts me that he’s coming for lunch. Mari wants to watch more TV. Tell her that too much TV fries your brain. She cries for three minutes before giving up. Start making vegetable juice, which makes me feel like the awesomest wife ever. Prepare the rest of lunch too.

11:50 a.m. – Husband arrives and eats lunch as fast as he can so he can get back to work before something explodes. He is super-important, or so he tells me.

12:05 p.m. – Begin after-lunch clean-up. HOW THE F$%K DID THREE PEOPLE MAKE SO MANY GODDAM DISHES? Stupid juicer has like 800 parts. Buzzer on dryer goes off. Arrrgh, chores have collided. Dishes or laundry? Dishes or laundry?! QUICK! DECIDE! Better to fold clothes before doing dishes because the clothes will get wrinkly if I let them sit, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to iron. Mari asks me to play with her. Tell her I have some stuff to do, and then I will play with her. Feel guilty for not playing with her. (Who really cares about laundry and dishes? Shouldn’t playing with my four-year-old come first??) Fold clothes and do dishes at lightning-speed.

12:40 p.m. – Sit down with Mari in her room and get ready to play a scintillating game of La-La-Loopsy-and-all-the-Equestria-Girls-Go-to-School-and-then-ballet-and-then-have-a-sleepover-party. Remember I haven’t taken the dog to pee since his morning walk. Think to myself what an asshole I am. Take dog out back where he pees for like 45 seconds. Poor dog. Let dog sit in my lap while playing with Mari.

12:44 p.m. – Bored out of my f$%king mind. Falling asleep sitting up. Mari chatters happily, oblivious to my near-coma. Play Words with Friends on my phone to keep myself from falling asleep. “MOMMY! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO PLAY ON YOUR PHONE WHILE WE’RE PLAYING! YOU’RE NOT EVEN PAYING ATTENTION!” Oh, nowwww she’s looking at me. Nice. Put down phone and wish I had some toothpicks to hold my eyelids open.

12:50 p.m. – Make myself a cup of coffee and return to Mari. Keep playing Words with Friends, but with phone hidden behind leg. Mari tells me everything I’m supposed to say and I say it exactly as directed. Words with Friends games are finished. Browse Facebook. Stumble across an article that says you should put your phone down and live in the moment with your kids because time passes too quickly and before you know it we’ll all be dead. Feel like the worst mother in the world. Turn off phone for three minutes but give up because without it I am seriously going to fall asleep. When it comes to parenting, awake is better than asleep, right? I’m trying my f$%king best here, okay?

1:05 p.m. – Dryer buzzer goes off again. Fold clothes at lightning speed. Put away both loads of clothes.

1:30 p.m. – Little neighbor boy knocks on back door. Mari yells at him that she doesn’t want to play with him because SHE’S PLAYING WITH HER MOMMY and tells him to GO AWAY! I tell her she’s being mean and should go play with him and practice being nice. (Maybe I’ll get some blogging done.) Kids go play on screened-in back porch.

1:45 p.m. – Sit down at dining room table with laptop where I can hear the kids and see them if I lean over far enough. Come up with an idea for a brilliant new blog-post that will surely go viral and turn me into a famous blogger and tons of product ideas will naturally flow from it so I will finally be making money from my writing. Decide to check my Page stats before delving into my new genius post. Adorable dog videos. Something about childhood cancer that makes me sob for 10 minutes and feel like I am living a useless existence and should do more to help in my community. What is the point of my life??? Brilliant blog idea from before now seems stupid. Nobody wants to read anything funny while children are dying of cancer.

2:20 p.m. – Mari screaming from the back porch. Little neighbor boy runs in, tells me Mari was mean to him, which is code for “I hit Mari.” (Again.) Send him home and set Mari up with a movie, worried that her brain will get fried. “Only one, and then no more T.V. for the rest of the day. Do you hear me?” “Yes, Mommy.” Make another cup of coffee and try to cheer up enough to write something for the blog. Get a few paragraphs written. Forget about coffee.

2:4 5p.m. – Pick up family room and kitchen table to prepare for violin student who is coming in 15 minutes.

3:00 p.m. – Mari plays with the sibling of my violin student while I teach.

3:30 p.m. – Heat up forgotten coffee. Twenty minutes of nothing but coffee-sipping and playing on my phone.

3:50 p.m. – Lucas arrives home, throws his backpack on the floor and tries to fly out the back door. I stop him and remind him of his DAILY responsibilities – emptying his backpack, cleaning out his lunchbox, homework, violin practice, chores. He tries to convince me to let him play first. I tell him if he does A, B, and C, I’ll let him play for a half hour before he has to do X, Y, and Z. He complains that a half hour is NOTHING. I ask if he would prefer zero minutes of playtime. We begin homework. There is probably some screaming involved, and maybe some eye-rolling followed by a time-out and me nagging him that the time he is wasting in time-out could’ve been time spent outside playing. Wonder who is this grown woman speaking words through my mouth and why is she such a naggy bitch!?

5:00 p.m. – Start dinner. Went grocery shopping today, so pizza it is. Make an organic salad to go along with the pizza, and call it a healthy meal.

5:30 p.m. – Call Lucas in to finish his homework and practice violin. He throws a huge fit and ends up in timeout again. Remind him, again, that the less time he spends in timeout, the more time he has to play. Run out of time to practice violin. Regret letting him go out to play before finishing his homework and chores. Feel guilty about regretting letting him play because don’t kids need some time to run around outside in the fresh air? Wonder if I’m a good mom or not.

6:00 p.m. – Eat dinner with kids. Haven’t heard from the husband yet. I text him: “when u comin?” He texts back: “Just a little longer.”

6:30 p.m. – After-dinner clean-up. Lucas finally practices violin for 10 minutes. Try really hard not to yell at him. (Violin is supposed to be fun!) 

7:00 p.m. – Sit down with an after-dinner cup of coffee. Remember the dog hasn’t pissed since lunch-time. Feel like an asshole. Get up and take him out. Face-licking. Words with Friends. Wonder how the f$%k anybody does everything I just did and works full time. Forget about coffee.

7:15 p.m. – Husband arrives home. Because the kids are neck-deep in a game of “kill the bad-guy with lasers from our cardboard-box spaceship” and I’m too emotionally exhausted to move, only the dog runs to greet my Husband. Husband scratches the whimpering-with-joy dog behind the ears and says, “Only Gizmo loves me.” I say, “Hey babe! There’s pizza on the stove, and salad in the big green bowl.”

And that is the end to my day as a stay-at-home-mom.

Just kidding; there is no ending. I’ll do it all again tomorrow.

…Until I don’t do it all anymore… and then all I’ll have to do is sit in my clean, quiet house, sipping my piping-hot cup of coffee… and think of how I would give anything to have these sweet, hectic days back again.

Yup. One day I’ll miss playing with her.

What is your typical day like? Is it anything like mine?

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