Carolyn Hax is an advice columnist in the Washington Post. I don't read her religously, but occasionally I find her advice as something I can use. This letter doesn't seem like it's for real, but I did some research and apparently it is.
Dear Carolyn:
Dear Tacoma:
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.Or you're lying about having friends with kids.Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.
-reprinted without permission
Amen, sista, amen. Those of you who have them or have been around them know how amazing (-ly exhausting) it is to have kids. I just wish Carolyn had added that every time you try to sit down at a computer to email or blog your kid, who was previously perfectly entertained by whatever game he/she was playing, will instantly begin to scream, throw things around the room, fall and cut his/her face, lay a giant load in his/her pants, or otherwise do something that requires your immediate attention. Sure, a non-parent may work a 9-10 hour day, but I'm sure that unless you're also taking care of kids that you have a little time to yourself to answer emails and comment on blogs. Unless your boss screams at you or lays a load in their pants when you try to send a personal email. In that case, I probably wouldn't trade jobs with you.
Dear Carolyn:
My best friend has a child.
Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc.
Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today?
Her: Park, play group . . .
Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc.
Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today?
Her: Park, play group . . .
OK. I've done Internet searches; I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please, no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners. . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them every day. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day, and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail?
I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy — not a bad thing at all — but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth?
Is this a contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids, and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
— Tacoma, Wash.
Dear Tacoma:
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.Or you're lying about having friends with kids.Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.
So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries and questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming.
It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family members and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting the constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity, empathy. Everything.
It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy — and then when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend — a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends or marvel at how much more productively she uses her time.
Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.
-reprinted without permission
Amen, sista, amen. Those of you who have them or have been around them know how amazing (-ly exhausting) it is to have kids. I just wish Carolyn had added that every time you try to sit down at a computer to email or blog your kid, who was previously perfectly entertained by whatever game he/she was playing, will instantly begin to scream, throw things around the room, fall and cut his/her face, lay a giant load in his/her pants, or otherwise do something that requires your immediate attention. Sure, a non-parent may work a 9-10 hour day, but I'm sure that unless you're also taking care of kids that you have a little time to yourself to answer emails and comment on blogs. Unless your boss screams at you or lays a load in their pants when you try to send a personal email. In that case, I probably wouldn't trade jobs with you.
