I’m sure plenty of women plan to be stay-at-home moms, but I never did. For me, it evolved out of necessity as a solution to the overwhelming cost of 2 kids in child care and the relentless demands of motherhood that amount to a second full-time job. If I’d seen it coming, I probably would’ve been more philosophically organized about it. But I was so far up the shit creek of a working mom’s dilemma that I bailed out without so much as a vision board. Looking back on the past three years at home, some basic tenants have gradually materialized. Had I written a mission statement for my SAHM experience, it would be this:
To provide my kids with structure, make them reasonably healthy meals, get them the hell outside, and be as cheap as possible.
And here's how I do it. Or at least try to.
Structure. We all got shit we need to do in a day. For moms, it might be washing the damn dishes; putting the fucking laundry away; picking up siblings from preschool; finding five minutes to take a goddamn shit; or simply making sure there’s enough time in the day for all the meals and snacks kids’ happiness and well-being require. For kids, it might be finding time for the playground and snacks and Paw Patrol and snacks and painting and crying and napping and putting on shoes and reading Brown Bear 137 times and snacks. That sprawling agenda will not be completed without some sort of schedule designed to fit it all in. Same thing goes for rules and a fixed behavior management strategy. If I didn’t have those, the kids would either drive me to day-drinking or that “Mommy Dearest” kind of rage that goes nowhere positive fast. Schedules, rules, and a consistent system of rewards and consequences are the peanut butter in your sanity sandwich for anyone at home with children all day.
Reasonably healthy meals. I’m no chef and certainly not a purist. I just do my damnedest to make most meals at home and ensure that the basic food pyramid components end up on a plate. That might mean a couple frozen meatballs with broccoli, sliced apples, and buttered noodles—but you can bet your ass there’s a protein, vegetable, fruit, and grain involved in every lunch and dinner. Breakfast, I admit, is often the same sugar shitshow enjoyed by most of America. But we do try to keep the sugar content of our cereals to 10 grams or less per serving, because I’d rather not have my children ricochet off the walls from the rocket fuel of their own blood glucose. Luckily, we don’t have any major food allergies to deal with in this house, so nuts and peanut butter are fair game in my rotation. As my kids’ tastes have gradually become more sophisticated, their plates look a little more like mom’s and dad’s: a mildly seasoned version of our protein and a trial portion of a more adventurous vegetable (like asparagus) to go with their standard fruit and garlic bread. But for the most part, I’m glad to cycle through the repertoire of 3 to 4 vegetables they’ll reliably eat if it means I don’t spend all damn dinner negotiating a couple half-assed bites of grown-up food into their faces. I consider that a waste of good food and effort. It’s also a squandered opportunity to provide whatever decent nutrition they will tolerate, even in the blandest, most redundant form the adult palate can conceive. My kids eat what I give them and I only give them food I know they will eat, but they’re welcome to taste whatever piques their interest. I feel like they’re getting a basic foundation of what’s good for them and that it’s slowly guiding them to experiment with foods beyond typical kid fare. The obvious downside to all this cooking at home is that you spend a good bit of your day preparing, serving, and cleaning up meals. In fact, I’ve previously compared staying home with kids to working at a restaurant--which is so. Very. True. That being said, all those calculated meals keep you on that schedule we just talked about. They break up your day in a way that kids understand and learn to anticipate. Oh, they’ll still get in your shit, be completely under-foot, and incessantly complain about how long it’s taking. But it’s a good way for them to see you periodically averting your attention from them towards something for the greater good. It also provides the opportunity for them to practice delayed gratification or--if they’re big enough--to participate in the cooking and cleaning process. I can’t lie; a big bag of Panera take-out sounds pretty fucking fantastic when I’m washing the damn dishes for the third time in 8 hours… But at the end of the day, I ultimately feel good about making the effort to provide (kinda) home-made, (somewhat) wholesome meals. It may even set the stage for more healthy eating habits down the road--when they no longer have me around to nearly trip into the hot stove every day.
Getting the hell outside. My kids are like puppies. If I don’t let them out regularly, they will tear my shit up and possibly piss on my carpet. No amount of Pinterest kid crafts can generate the energy expenditure that an hour kicking balls through a pile of pine straw can. It’s been difficult lately, with the cold, wet of winter hanging around like a kid who doesn’t feel tired at bedtime…but come on, Spring! Mama needs an outlet for the running and the wrestling and the generalized messing with shit they’re not supposed to until something breaks or someone cries. I admit, it’s tough to motivate myself to venture out some days, especially when it takes the kids 20 minutes to put on shoes and often demands my ill-received dissertation on what constitutes “jacket weather”. But it’s always worth it to get the hell outside. Plus, it’s one of those things they won’t get enough of at school. So I make myself make it happen.
Be as cheap as possible. The life of a mom at home with the kids is about as glamorous as a turd on the sofa. Nevertheless, the opportunity to stay home is a luxury many moms don’t have—and unless you’re a lottery winner or self-made internet sensation, momming on a single income requires a certain level of financial restraint and discipline to remain sustainable. Parks. Playgrounds. Libraries. The garden center at Home Depot. Free places are my preferred destinations for passing the time. I also do my best to ignore the siren song of Chick-fil-a, Target, Starbucks, and other slippery slopes of $4 here, $20 there that could eventually snowball into the kids attending the University of This House because I’ve squandered their college funds on caramel macchiatos, waffle fries, and Cartwheel deals. We do engage in the regulated splurge of eating out once per weekend and I highly recommend saving those weekly pennies for whatever reasonable indulgence you can’t live without. Otherwise I try to make the most of this finite stay-at-home opportunity by spending the least money possible.
To state the above as my mission is not a declaration of having accomplished it, by any means. But at the end of one of those days where I wonder what the hell I did for 10 straight hours when nothing really seems to have gotten done, I can usually still say I’ve addressed these guiding principles in some way. Years from now, when the kids are finally too old to need their asses wiped and I’m back to the grind full-time, they may not remember these years of agenda boards, boiled carrots, playgrounds, and sprinting through the Home Depot garden center cuz it’s something free to do. But, much like the cooking time of steamed broccoli and the price of peanut butter at Kroger, they are things I won’t soon forget.
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