You Work Hard, Momma!
As far as work goes I am not a newbie. I love to work and always have…except for pulling weeds as a kid…I always hated that, or cleaning my room, imagine socks under the pillowcase and shoes in my dresser. My mom just loved those little surprises. No need to feel too badly for her, though, my own children are returning the favor, ten-fold.
As a woman, as a person, as a mom, I want to feel valuable no matter my title. I think that many of our issues come from not knowing our worth, and this universal desire isn’t unique to moms. I have worked professionally at a full-time job. Later, I worked that job while pregnant and sick. The same job I worked part-time while breast-feeding an infant at home and later while chasing two toddlers at the end of each work day.
Now, I am in a new stage. This stage has actually been taking place for almost seven years…this is the phase of being a stay-at-home-mom. Have you seen those really sweet posts directed at SAHMs about our worth? Not like you are irreplaceable and beautiful…like literally, between the hours that you chauffeur, clean, referee, teach, counsel and cook you are worth about $200,000. I freaking love that. It makes me laugh and feel celebrated at the same time. But this former-paycheck-making-momma needs something tangible. Let’s get real, no one in their right mind would pay me that much and looking at that figure almost makes me feel worse knowing I won’t likely see that deposited into my account anytime soon. Yes, I am important. I am needed. I am loved. And most wonderfully, yet, I am part of this amazing family that I am able to contribute to.
As a stay-at-home-mom, I NEED to find tangible ways to contribute. Many of these ways have zero to do with dollars and cents, unfortunately. But today, the most amazing thing that I did is something that I could do with more efficiency than any other man, woman or child on the face of the planet and that…makes me feel PRETTY. DANG. AWESOME! So what was this task? In less than a minute, no joke, I sorted through my almost-two-year-old’s dresser. I organized all of her clothes, throwing out items that were stained, torn, too small or even those shirts that just about rip her adorable ears off because the neckline is too tight. I guarantee no one knows my girl like I do. No one could’ve done this small, seemingly routine task better than me. And that, is something tangible that made me feel exceptional.
What makes you feel like a great mom?