OR: I need backup here!
This is a familiar bone of contention among many stay at home mothers, I’ve come to learn. I was reading this post over at Mrs. Flinger’s just now and it struck a chord with me. What time will your husband be home from work? Most women who stay at home with their children (unless they are that brand of SuperWoman that needs no help or second set of hands whatsoever and could juggle babies all day long unassisted and do it with a smile and those women, while admirable, are the ones who make us all look bad and we shall have nothing more to do with them in this post) live for the moment their husbands arrive home. I know most of my day is filtered through this particular lens. Two hours until I can start looking for him to come home. If I can just make it until 5 o’clock, I’ll be okay. If you are a stay at home mom like me (and not a SuperWoman), this probably sounds familiar.
For a brief, shining moment, we tried something around here that I enjoyed immensely. Kile would get up a little earlier than usual and leave for work by 7 am. This was great because it got me up a little earlier and I was able to fit everything into my busy mornings that I need to fit in. The best part was that he could leave work earlier, at 4. And because he could, he did. Unlike leaving at 5, where one might be tempted to hang around until the traffic clears or whatever. And most days he would be home by 4:30! Do you know how WONDERFUL that was? It was rare that he ever got home after 5 while on that schedule.
But, as with most absolutely wonderful things, it wasn’t meant to last. He started sleeping a little later in the mornings (to allow for staying up a little at night doing lord knows what, I have no idea because I’m pregnant and I turn into a pumpkin) and going into work at 8. Or later. Sometimes 8:30. He gets off at 5, but the notion of him coming home at 5:30 on these nights is purely laughable. He manages it on the nights that Harry has soccer practice at 6, thank goodness. But the rest of the week, that’s about a joke.
I wish he was home earlier in the evening. It’s not too long after he gets home that the boys are shuffled off to bed. And he gets, what, 10 minutes of quality time with Liam, in between dinner and bedtime? How about Harry? Shoot, I guess I’m okay in the quality time department because we have the time after the kids are asleep to be “just us”. It would be nice to have him home earlier in the evening because I do count on him coming through the door so much. It doesn’t mean I’m “off duty” as soon as he gets home either, but somehow just knowing that he’s there helps my frame of mind considerably.
How do the rest of you deal with this? Or do you deal with it at all? Please tell me I’m not the only one who starts watching the clock like a hawk in the evenings. And why do these men do this to us? I think it’s because they know it rankles our nerves. They’re little shits that way.
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This is me. I'm a thirtysomething stay at home mom to three kids. For years I was a stay at home mom to one kid and trying very hard to have more. It took a LONG time (ie: 6 1/2 years), but finally Liam arrived and charmed us with his blue eyes and ginormous, round head. Then we got a shock: I was pregnant again and this time it was a GIRL. Our hearts and home are full at last and now that we're done having babies, we get to relax (snort) and watch them grow (not too fast now, you hear?). Thanks for coming by, feel free to dip into my archives, read my About and History pages (just don't do Jackson's Story without tissues!) and make yourself at home.
