i plan on someday writing a book about the diversity among stay-at-home-moms. just walk into any chick-fil-a around 11:30am and you'll see a slew of them, baby in tow, organized diaper bag on the arm, ready for action. look around and you'll see 1. the mom who can't ever seem to remember to pack both the bottle AND the formula 2. the one who always has hand sanitizer, diapers, and wipes in matching containers 3. the one who looks exhausted with a glazed look in her eyes or 4. the one who has the cute bob haircut, high cheekbones, and a color-coordinated outfit. i think most of us are a mix-matched assortment of a few of these.
i happen to be the mom with flip flops on no matter the day or season (and a tan line to prove it), with her hair back in a bandana. my hero is rosie the riveter. (she really COULD do it all.) i use the same backpack, day or night, instead of a purse or diaper bag, because it is practical... and above all else, i am practical. i get frustrated and flushed with my children. i like organizing toys and have a small infatuation with storage boxes of any kind. i enjoy dean martin and yankee candles and purses from target.
i say all this because i find myself constantly comparing myself to other moms.
am i enough?
to me, being a SAHM is so difficult because, unlike other jobs, you don't get a quarterly review. you don't receive end of year bonuses. you don't have people recommending you for a promotion.
you have your family and your household and sometimes a part time job on the side.
and it is so rewarding. -and more important than anyone in our society gives us credit for.
i have spent the last year trying to find my own way in this new career. when i spend time with other SAHM friends, they challenge me and sharpen me and make me aware of common pitfalls. i appreciate that i am not alone in this. i appreciate that the hubs constantly reaffirms me in this position. i appreciate that this is an eternal investment.
God has equipped me for His work. HE is enough.
--the key is to remember this fact when the kids are screaming, the house is a wreck, and dinner is burning.