First and foremost I need to say I am sorry to all the stay-at-home-mom's who may see this. If I have already stopped you on the street and apologized, you get a 2fer. I used to believe, with all the conviction of somebody who has never been there, that stay-at-home-moms had a great deal. Play with the kids, watch TV, go to the park and sometimes do a little housework. OK mom's, done laughing? I was WRONG!! Oh so wrong.
I have worked as a bricklayer, heavy lifting and long hours in the heat and cold. A nurse, more heavy lifting and long hours with the addition of cleaning (and sometimes dodging) various bodily fluids and occasionally fending off angry family members and confused patients. And the one I thought was the worst, life coach for developmentally disabled adults with behavior problems. Still more heavy lifting, still dodging fluids and solids (sometimes while driving), still fending off clients with the added fun of angry citizens. Only in that case I was out in the world with no back-up.
When my wife became pregnant and we decided I would do the Mom thing because she had a better job with better insurance, I jumped at what I thought would be a vacation. Again, I was wrong. At a "real" job you get to go home after your shift. My job is waiting for me when I wake up in the morning and my shift does not end until after bedtime stories are read. At a job you are responsible for your work. At my job I am responsible for a life. At Farmer's Market in La Verne last year I let my daughter Emma dangler her feet in the fountain in front of the University, I should have seen this coming, she jumped in. OK it's a warm night she'll be fine, until she starts screaming her foot hurts, BLOOD! Did she step on a rusty pipe? The next thing I know I'm running down a crowded street with a screaming, bleeding three year old in my arms. Funny, nobody asked what the hell I was doing. It's good to be six foot seven inches and change when one is in mama bear mode. Everything turned out fine, she stepped on a piece of glass and I disinfected and bandaged the cut when I got to my truck. Now she loves to hear the story of "Emma's fount ion", I think she earned the right to have it named after her. At least in our house.
So, once again let me say how sorry I am for thinking mom's have it easy. This is absolutely the hardest damn job I have ever done. And the most rewarding one that I wouldn't change or trade for anything.
I have worked as a bricklayer, heavy lifting and long hours in the heat and cold. A nurse, more heavy lifting and long hours with the addition of cleaning (and sometimes dodging) various bodily fluids and occasionally fending off angry family members and confused patients. And the one I thought was the worst, life coach for developmentally disabled adults with behavior problems. Still more heavy lifting, still dodging fluids and solids (sometimes while driving), still fending off clients with the added fun of angry citizens. Only in that case I was out in the world with no back-up.
When my wife became pregnant and we decided I would do the Mom thing because she had a better job with better insurance, I jumped at what I thought would be a vacation. Again, I was wrong. At a "real" job you get to go home after your shift. My job is waiting for me when I wake up in the morning and my shift does not end until after bedtime stories are read. At a job you are responsible for your work. At my job I am responsible for a life. At Farmer's Market in La Verne last year I let my daughter Emma dangler her feet in the fountain in front of the University, I should have seen this coming, she jumped in. OK it's a warm night she'll be fine, until she starts screaming her foot hurts, BLOOD! Did she step on a rusty pipe? The next thing I know I'm running down a crowded street with a screaming, bleeding three year old in my arms. Funny, nobody asked what the hell I was doing. It's good to be six foot seven inches and change when one is in mama bear mode. Everything turned out fine, she stepped on a piece of glass and I disinfected and bandaged the cut when I got to my truck. Now she loves to hear the story of "Emma's fount ion", I think she earned the right to have it named after her. At least in our house.
So, once again let me say how sorry I am for thinking mom's have it easy. This is absolutely the hardest damn job I have ever done. And the most rewarding one that I wouldn't change or trade for anything.
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