It's simple enough. I have it. There isn't a cure for it unfortunately. If someone could invent a simple injection, it would be nice because I could stop feeling the pressure of keeping myself and everything else together.
I have four kids. That's a scary thought. They depend on me for diaper changes, food preparation, and the occasional tuck into bed (that part is generally left up to daddy). But there's holes in my day so big you could drive a semi through it. Some days it's the kids or the house.
Do you know those women at the bus stop with their kid with their hair perfectly coiffed and their makeup smoothly applied? I'm lucky to be out of my pajamas at 7 a.m. when the bus comes. Who am I kidding? I'm lucky to be out of bed at that hour. I let myself sleep since the kids can dress themselves. Dave can pour their cereal and the bus stop is in front of our house. We are the laziest family you will probably ever meet. Oh, and yes, I said cereal. The sugary kind. I think right now it's fruit rings but we also have golden puffs. That might warrant a CPS call to those perfect women.
I have this guilt that nothing gets accomplished because I want EVERYTHING to get done. My stomach is in knots because I still haven't put together my office or my closet. My closet looks like it threw up on itself. We still haven't unpacked completely from our last trip and we'll be leaving again in a week. Thus, I have what I like to call "Stepford Wives Syndrome Guilt." I wanted this house. I thought it would be nice to have room to spread out. All I can say is I'm glad we don't have more square footage or my guilt would probably multiply by a thousand. There is only one room in our house that I think is actually done and that's the guest room/nursery. It took me forever to do but it's adorable. When I can figure out this picture thing (windows 8 sucks), I'll add pictures. There's still work to be done in all of the other rooms of the house: hanging a shower curtain in the kids bathroom, actually cleaning the kids bathroom, folding the boys laundry (my nemesis), you guessed it.. I have something to do in every room from the bottom floor to the our room.
I don't meet my husband at the door looking all fancy. In fact, the majority of the time my hair is just up in a clip so the baby doesn't pull on it. I'm usually wearing a shirt that has spit up on it, and I'll be honest, I'm losing weight but not enough to lose the muffin top I have with pretty much everything I wear. The good news is I'm almost at the lowest weight I have been at in five years. Thanks to my friend, who keeps me motivated to actually walk, I usually get a little exercise in everyday. I don't know whether my husband has even noticed but it's a twenty pound loss and I'm super proud of myself. I have about 20 pounds to go before I'll be happy again, but a good Stepford Wife would weigh between a 0 and a 4. A 6 would be pushing it. I'll get there one day. My friend was recently complaining that her "fat pants" were a size 8. I wanted to punch her in the face (just kidding, twinsie. You know I love you). I think it's easier to bounce back having just one kid though.
Being a Stepford Wife would mean that there would be a hot meal on the table when Dave gets home. Not going to happen. First, I don't cook. I really try but most of what I make is a fail. I don't know why. I don't enjoy cooking at all because despite my ability to follow directions, something always goes wrong and I create something that the kids complain about and we all try to gag down. Yep, not Stepford Wife material at all.
So, let's review: I'm not a Stepford Wife because the house is a mess, there's no dinner on the table when daddy gets home, and I look like a wreck when David walks through the door. That pretty much sums it up. Oh, and did I mention our kids aren't perfect either? I think they're just kids but David's expectations are slightly higher than mine.
How do they do it? How do parents do PTO and soccer practice? Balance ballet with violin lessons? That's where the guilt comes because you know that there are women doing these things and will actually sleep at night without having to get up and blog about their failures.
Stepford Wife, I'm not. Sorry, Dave but it looks like you got the cheap version, like the pretend Barbies that will lose their head in no time at all. I don't have a term for me yet. I'll have to work on that.
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