So here I am, almost 15 months into motherhood, and I still haven't won the lottery.
It's not that I don't occasionally try, although to be honest, I really don't. Even if I bought a ticket, I'd probably forget to check the numbers. Because I forget basically everything that isn't essential to my or my offspring's survival these days.
It's not that I particularly want to be rich, but I do, as a working mom, often daydream about time. I have this idea in my head that if I just had more time, then everything would be so much smoother in our life.
I'm not sure where this time might come from if I was home all day, because I haven't noticed that I have all that much free time chasing my 14.5 month old around the house when I am home. But I have this epic delusion that if I had just a bit more time at home, financed by a lottery win (more on that later, no I'm not serious), I would catch up on things.
But since I haven't become wealthy yet, downshifted yet, or figured out how to make my toddler stay still for more than 2 nanoseconds, I guess getting caught up is a pipe dream.
Which leads me to my topic du jour - the unpleasant things about working motherhood that no one likes to talk about because it gives ammunition to the other side of the stay at home vs. working mother debate. Which is actually more like one of those wars where no one wins because eventually both sides have been completely gunned down, sorta like a lactating version of the fight scene in 'Grease'.
But really, there are some downsides of working motherhood, and the absolute lack of time is one of them. Like this weekend.
Saturday mornings I typically go to yoga when I get up. Right now, it's really the only exercise I get. Once I get home and get showered, we start our weekend for real. This past weekend it went something like this:
Once showered and ready to go, Sander and I feed the munchkin, and we headed over to my Mom's, where there was a Chicken Open House in full swing. Once a year they open their yard to all comers to meet the chickens, learn about chickens, etc.
After an hour there, we headed home because the munchkin was in dire need of a nap.
I went grocery shopping, Sander stayed home with her. 2 stores and nearly $250 later, I'd stocked us up.
When I got home, I unloaded the car (munchkin was still asleep on Daddy's lap) and started dinner prep. At this point, on Tuesday, I don't remember what I made, but I've mentioned my lack of memory before. Actually, I don't remember Saturday evening at all, I just remember that I went to bed really tired. So apparently I was busy.
Then Sunday. My husband got out the door 8 to do yardwork. When the munchkin went down for a nap, I did food prep, laundry, cleaning and organizing for about 90 minutes. Then lunch. Then some more food prep and running around, since we had to be somewhere at 3.
Then we went to a family barbeque until about 7. Then home, put munchkin to bed, start on Monday prep. You get the idea by now - let's just say I think I spent the entire weekend at a dead run.
And then it was Monday again.
I do like working, and I do like our life. But working motherhood is tiring, and frequently nonstop, especially with small children. And if admitting that gives ammunition to the stay-at-home warriors, so be it.