So this is my story. My mama stayed home with me and my big brother until I was in school. I was raised with a stay-at-home mom. You would think I would have learned something about running a house from her, but I didn’t. Two reasons: Mom will freely admit that she is not a domestic goddess, and I don’t do very well at learning by example anyway. I have to mess things up on my own to get anything out of the experience.
I misspent my twenties and early thirties working. A lot. I didn’t have time to cook – restaurants were invented specifically for me. Clean? Really? How and why? I was never home. I was a manager and a social worker. I was good at what I did. I could handle anything. I really believed that I would take all that experience and make running a home look easy. I mean, really, I had employees. How hard could a baby be? Go ahead and laugh at my former foolishness. I do.
We now have two children – our daughter Keegan is three, and our son Mason is one. My husband and I bought a great big 1857 Victorian that we are very slowly renovating. We have a tenant while we do this. We have a dog. I work seasonally. It’s a hectic life. I remember all those 70+ hour work weeks with fond nostalgia and wish I could go back.
A few things about what my blog isn’t, as a comparison to the blogs I have found on the subject of home management. It’s not religious. I do what I do for my family, not God. It isn’t politically conservative. I’m as liberal as they come, and a Feminist to boot. It is not designed to be controversial in any way. All mothers are doing a great job, whether they work or stay home, or breastfeed or not, or cook or order in, or whatever other bunch of silliness people come up with to divide mothers. I’m sharing my personal story, and some of my personal beliefs will pop up along the way, but I’m not judging anyone else.
What it is, other than a liberal secular review of home economics: I decided to write this because I personally feel kind of lost in this experience. I suspect a lot of stay-at-home parents feel the same way. As I learn how to handle this crazy life, I hope that I can help others along the way. (Secretly, I hope somebody will take pity on me and train me. I would really love a crash course.)
And I hope it’s funny.