Tuesday, May 28, 2013

It's like this

I am a stay-at-home mom.

Every month, I'm still paying off my student loan.

Every month, I'm a little more okay with that.
More often than not, I look like this^ A far cry from the every day dress up of salon life.

Today I made the bed and did two loads of laundry before 11am and I feel like a rock star.

I change out of my pajamas into clean yoga pants. Getting dressed, like a boss.

Clean is a relative term. (A little spit up never hurt anyone, right?)

My baby screamed at me for almost two hours this morning, and she still looked cute to me.

I'm a stay-at-home mom, my baby is finally napping, but I'm not because this might be the only hour I get to myself all day.

This might be the only hour I get to myself all day, and I just creeped on my baby in her crib because I miss her quite terribly.

I slept maybe 5 hours last night. Considering that my baby gave up sleeping through the night, that's effing awesome.

That last statement was not a sarcastic.

After cleaning out my closet, my wardrobe is almost exclusively tops that I can easily unbutton or lift up at a moment's notice.--Get your mind out of the gutter, I'm feeding my kid.

I'm a stay-at-home mom, my workouts consist of squats and bench pressing my baby. She quite enjoys it.

If you ask what I do all day, I will punch you in the throat...or employ very strong rhetoric.

The amount of stuff I can accomplish with a baby strapped to my chest is mind blowing.

I have full conversations with myself my baby.

I have been known to occasionally spend my daughter's entire nap time straightening my hair, because I may be at home all day, but damn it, I want to look pretty. It's the little things, people.

At this point, I can recite Green Eggs and Ham from memory.

When my nails are painted, I inexplicably feel like I have my shit together.
I am a stay-at-home mom, I narrate my activities and speak through stuffed animals.

I'm pretty sure my baby knows what time Kelly and Michael starts.

If I get out of the house by myself, I don't know whether to skip or panic.

I can hear a baby squeak through a closed door, music, and open windows with a washing machine, dryer, and dishwasher running at the same time. Basically, I'm a superhero.

My Instagram is a parade of baby pictures.

I hate Mondays because it means the maintenance crew outside the bedroom window is going to screw up my baby's morning nap with their lawnmowers and leaf blowers.

My husband makes fun of me because as soon as I put Scarlett down for the night, I immediately open my phone and go through old videos and pictures of her.

Occasionally there are days when I feel like I'm slowly going crazy. Everyday, I am so thankful that my husband works so hard so I can stay home with our girl.

I'm a stay-at-home mom--
It's a love-hate relationship and love wins pretty much every time.
It's kicking my ass. Daily.
I'm happy.
I'm a stay-at-home mom, hear me yawn.

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