A Letter to the Stay-at-Home-Mom
Dear [insert your name here],
Hello rock star! I’m writing this letter to share my feelings with you, so I’m going to dive right into what’s in my heart.
I feel frustrated that people assume “you’ve got it made” because you’re at home with your children. I understand your daily predicament … the constant seesawing between loving to be your child’s primary caregiver and experiencing high levels of mommy-guilt because you want at least a week away from your children.
May I reassure you of something? You are not a bad mother for having emotions, nerves, hormones, and needs. You are simply human like the rest of us, and I trust that you’re doing your best.
I also want to share with you that I’m sad when you feel unappreciated. You are the captain of your ship, the queen of your castle, and one who is not afraid to get down and dirty when necessary. That type of leadership is priceless.
I need to get something off my chest. I worry that once my stay-at-home mom term ends — when my kids are independent and don’t need Mom at home all the time — I won’t know what to do with myself. Do I then go back to school, work, write a book, read a bunch of books? Will I be lost?
Do you ask yourself some (or all) of these questions? I, too, need your support.
I must not forget to remind you that you are not falling short in anything. As I’ve said before, I trust that you are doing your best. The only expectation — in my heart — that you should have for yourself is to find joy in your life. (That expectation alone is hard enough!)
If not making dinner one night so you can play Legos with your child brings you joy, do it. Cereal for dinner will suffice. Stop listening to the judgmental noise surrounding you, those people don’t pay your bills — but wouldn’t it be nice if they did? (The challenges of living on one income could be another letter of support in and of itself.)
Lastly, I love the detail you put into taking care of your family. In case no one has told you, I appreciate the way you flip everyone’s socks right side out after (or before) washing them, how you make sure to put other people’s shoes away so that no one trips over them, or the way you make your imagination work hard to create a bedtime story to avoid a tantrum. You are amazing. You are loved and supported. You are adequate.
I see you. I am with you. I honor all that you are because you are far more than a “homemaker.”
Love,
A fellow SAHM
P.S.: The response I’d like to hear from you is: “I am one badass SAHM, and so much more.” —Jasmin