It’s Hard Ya Know?

It's silent in the newsroom today and that's good because I'm in no mood to hear anyone speak. The Haute Mamas were once accused of being the "Happy Happy Joy Joy" moms by an obviously complainer but from Robin's post yesterday and the one you are about to read I'd argue that comment is most erroneous. I know this is going to sound whiny and pathetic but that's just what happens sometimes when you're being honest. I'm sure a few stay-at-home moms are going to be rolling their eyes at this post...but you know my heels are hard to fill. It's HARD and I mean damn HARD to be a working mom. That's just a fact. My family doesn't feel very well. To tell the truth, I'm just plain worn down but I can't stop because the kid wants held. He needs me to hold him and tell him he'll feel better. He needs me to wipe away his tears and his snot, coax him into eating some dinner, put clean clothes on him and get him to sleep. Sleep will make us all feel better. He needs me to hold him while I brush my hair and find something to wear to work. He needs me to hold him as I'm pulling out of the driveway and he's crying at the door. He doesn't care that I left my heart with him. I do more in eight hours than most do in a week...and I'm seven months pregnant...and sometimes it all is just overwhelming. The fridge is bare. By bare I mean there's some ketchup and a bag of old carrots. But, I don't have time to go to the store because my family needs me at home and my job needs me at work. There's no dish soap so the dishes are stacked up. There's a heap of laundry that needs folded. All of it is waiting my arrival after an eight hour day. At work there's a list a whole page long of tasks that need done. In the newspaper business that means they need done TODAY...preferably on deadline. A little something for Ann, a little something for Todd, a little something for those of you who are addicted to your horoscopes or the church page. There's this blog and I can't forget to remind you all to check out our contest. And the people who call to yell at me about how we got the weather wrong for Saturday. How do you really have time to make that phone call....and did yelling at me make you feel better? In my purse is a stack of bills. When do we get paid and when are these due? Did I forget any? Are there any lost on the kitchen table? Oh, and I can't forget to mail that graduation card that's already late.... The calendar is covered in notes for doctors appointments for myself, the kid, and the hubby. I'm sure there's another that needs scheduled so I'd better add that to my list of personal things to do like buy groceries, don't forget the stamps to mail the bills and make sure the backflow preventer gets checked before the June 1st deadline the city of Grand Junction gave me. I never returned my mom's phone call from the weekend. I'm a terrible friend to most everyone these days because I just don't have time to nurture those relationships. When I do have ten minutes to myself I try to do some general hygiene or just take a second to breathe instead of jumping on the phone to call someone. Maybe that's selfish. I think this picture says it all. This is how far I got into an at-home pedicure last week before the kid discovered what I was doing. My toes stayed that way for two days until I found the time to take off the smeared polish. They are still bare. It makes me dizzy just thinking about all the things I'm trying to juggle without dropping anything. I'm not looking for sympathy or even someone to help me. I guess I just air it all here to make myself feel better and hope that this bit of insight gives us working moms a bit of respect. God knows we deserve it.