Stuck-At-Home Mum

  • You wish you knew less about the effects of sugar, salt, chemical consumption so you would feel less guilty about the amount of biscuit bribery and beige oven food that is consumed by your kids.
  • You tell yourself your menu is limited because you prioritise getting out of the house, not staying in and cooking. Deep down you know this is really because being out of the house means less mess.
  • When your children are going through developmental leaps/ are being arseholes, every day (and possibly night) in their company erodes every vestige of patience you ever had. The (shameful) end result is there may be times that your hands itch. You’re not about to receive money, no one is talking about you, it is just that your child/ren have driven you to the brink of doing something previously unthinkable. You can now see how people who already have “issues” might transform it into the thinkable.
  • You feel terrible about this. You cry down the phone to your partner/ husband/ friend begging them to say you’re not a terrible person, but not too much because you fearexcusing this behaviour might make “it” easier next time.
  • You fantasise about going to work and not having to listen to the tantrums and whining.
  • You fantasise about going to work and earning your own money so you can justify another mama-merch slogan tee. (You conveniently forget that after childcare costs you’ll be left with approximately £3.47 a day from your wages.)
  • You resent your partner having the freedom to phone you halfway through bathtime to say they won’t be home for bathtime as they’re meeting clients (you suspect friends) after work, during bathtime. “No shit” you might bite back. You reflect that your last night out involved weeks of planning who will be where and when to catch the slack you’d be letting fall, only for it to unravel on the actual night so you arrive two hours late when everyone else has gone home/ is pissed.
  • You torment yourself with memories of a time when you were respected, had authority that was listened too, and expertise that was valued.
  • You spend time wishing your washing machine had a timer that allowed you to set the start time/ told you how long was left.
  • You spend more time wishing you didn’t wish this.
  • But then the kids are asleep, you don those digital pink-hued goggles of modern motherhood, scroll through pics of your kids surrounded by scattered Cheerios and forget the frustration you felt at the time.You declare them “so cute it hurts” and reflect on all the reasons you’re actually happy to be a stuck-at-home-mum:
  • There is no rush out of the house in the morning, juggling nursery drop-offs with sleepy children followed by the hurtle to work that always ends in being five minutes late.
  • There are no guilty apologies as you leave other people in the office. You need to get to nursery before they start fining you and leaving you in deficit for the day, thus unable to guilt-free buy that slogan tee anyway.
  • There are no adults tantruming and whining. Those arseholes tend not to respond well to KitKat bribery.
  • There is less anxiety about whether the kids will sleep tonight – when the most intellectually challenging task of the day is timing the pasta, broken sleep is annoying rather than a threat to survival.
  • You get to see your kid drawing hair on a stick person for the first time; listen to them struggle with a word on Monday, that by Saturday is perfect; not have that horrible sinking feeling when you notice something for the first time, that someone else has known for days or even weeks.
  • You get to take them on day trips, on bus journeys one way and then back again on arainy day, and teach them to ride their bike. All on a week day, without the crowds, enjoying the look of ecstasy on their faces.
  • You get to laugh and smile so hard your face aches. Almost every day, sometimes several times a day.

  • You get to relish being rejected at the weekend – the least present parent is generally more interesting.
  • * Truth is, stuck-at-home-mums like me didn’t have this life in their vision of the future so wefind it difficult to accept and embrace. But, in a never-ending cycle, when the day is over its easier to see the upsides, appreciate the gains, and reflect on the fact it’s not, afterall, forever.
  • * So, just keep going. You’re doing your best.

  • My children are two and four. One is at home full-time, the other is in nursery two days a week. I love them fiercely of course, but frequently wonder whether anyone/everyone else finds this existence of servitude as boring/ monotonous/ lonely/ frustrating as I do, or if I’m justdoing it wrong.
  • Experiences of motherhood are infinite and impossible to capture in one piece of writing -but perhaps you too feel more stuck-than-stay-at-home-mum. Have a read of this and see, because above all else, it’s nice not to feel alone:
  • You try showering before they get up as suggested by people who are better at life, but the shower wakes them.
  • You leave the shower running for 37 minutes, trying to get in it while the kids make many varied requests for drinks/ toys/ food/ toothpaste/ soap/ moisturiser. Sometimes you’ll just give up and get dressed. This is annoying.
  • You:
  • serve breakfast
  • unload the dishwasher
  • load the washing machine
  • dress children
  • change nappy(ies)
  • make a cup of tea, take a sip
  • fold dry laundry
  • attempt to eat your breakfast
  • donate it to a child
  • make beds
  • brush their teeth
  • wipe hands, faces, bums
  • sweep the floor
  • wipe the table
  • load the dishwasher
  • brush their hair
  • realise you haven’t brushed your own teeth/ hair
  • brush teeth, fail to brush hair
  • wrestle shoes, coats and hats on (hurry up summer)
  • drop older child at nursery/ school
  • go to the park
  • freeze
  • help small child climb stuff
  • reply “Yes, it’s a bin lorry/ dog/ cat/ leaf/ tree” ad infinitum
  • walk home
  • wash multiple sets of hands
  • change nappies
  • make lunch
  • make a cup of tea, possibly drink it
  • eat lunch
  • wipe hands, faces, tables, floors
  • wrestle resistant limbs into a sleeping bag
  • bribe a child into their cot
  • pretend they are asleep
  • sit on hold to a utility company
  • make and finally drink a cup of tea
  • hang out the laundry
  • put on another load
  • pay bills
  • arrange something House-y
  • retrieve child from cot
  • play
  • put on coats, shoes, hats
  • collect other child
  • cook tea
  • retrieve contraband from small hands that bigger hands have donated
  • referee
  • supervise tea
  • wipe faces, hands, tables, floors
  • load the dishwasher
  • run the bath
  • wrangle children into the bathroom
  • undress them
  • put them in the bath
  • unload the washing machine
  • hang out the washing
  • wash children
  • dodge water
  • dry children
  • dry the floor
  • brush teeth
  • herd into bed
  • read stories
  • return escaped children
  • tuck in
  • turn out the light
  • cook dinner
  • revisit children
  • revisit children
  • revisit children
  • tidy away toys/ kick them into a corner
  • sit down to eat
  • tidy kitchen
  • load and start dishwasher
  • sit down.
  • And when your other half says, “What have you done today?” reply, “Nothing really.”
You resent your partner having the freedom to phone you halfway through bathtime to say they won’t be home for bath. Nicola Washington