My coworker made a funny comment to me earlier this week. Something along the lines of “I don’t know how you get home from work and take care of a child. I can barely take care of my cat.”
I told him the truth: I don’t feel like I do the “home” part of my life very well, because when I get home, I devote every minute of my son’s awake time to him. Then after he’s asleep, I have about two hours for the other stuff.
But let’s be honest: who wants to clean and cook and do laundry after a work day? So I watch TV and maybe throw a load of laundry in. Sometimes my husband and I don’t eat supper until 8:30. And I clean when I can – if I’m home for a few minutes after my husband takes Future President to Grandma in the morning, I’ll quickly vacuum and dust. And on the weekend I try to do more but it’s far from perfect.
My mommy guilt is further compounded by conversations like this one:
Future President has started recognizing the American flag and every time he sees one he yells “‘Merica!”
Who loves in America? I ask him.
Daddy, Future President, he says.
Where does Mommy live? I ask
At work, he tells me.