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stay-home mom

motherhood

Man dates, chick dates and mom dates

chick dates

chick dates

I finally managed to catch a thoroughly enjoyable show after a series of flops. At first, I didn’t have much expectation for “I Love You, Man”, the not-so-romantic comedy by Paul Rudd and Jason Segel (better known as Marshall Eriksen on HIMYM). Ok, I actually thought it was a gay show, but since IMDB rated it 7.8, we decided to give it a shot. Which turned out to be pretty awesome. I haven’t laughed out loud like that at a movie in a long time. IMDB rocks.

So I’ve gotta talk about the concept of a man date. It sounds so wrong on so many levels unless you’re into that kinda thing, then it’s probably great. My take is this. Men don’t have BFFs and they don’t go on alone dates, not for drinks or movies or hunting. It’s too awkward. Anything more than 2 is fine, and it becomes a man group-date. They can do their masculine thing and play poker and grunt at each other.

But 2 dudes hanging out all the time, man, that’s just so gay. What do they do? Like braid each other’s (armpit) hair?

Which is why I’m thankful the husband doesn’t do man dates. From time to time he needs his guy time and goes out to hang with the guys (notice the plural form) to play soccer or computer games. I’m cool with that. But I’d be seriously uncomfortable if he was out with like his BFF all the time doing god-knows-what till all hours of the night.

Now chick dates are different though. Girls can hang out 1-on-1 or in a group and its perfectly fine. We get to go shopping, massages, manicures or just sit down and talk about all the above stuff. Well actually, we talk about guys and contraceptives and sexploits, but that’s what BFFs do. And I love my chick dates cos it’s nice to do girly stuff and giggle from time to time.

Although all that has been out the window since I became a stay-home mom. Nobody wants to go on a chick date with a pregnant woman lugging around a stroller and a restless toddler. It’s an ordeal getting a space at a nice cafe and 5 minutes into the conversation, the kid is screaming and I’m picking food out from my friend’s hair. Don’t ask.

So now it’s all down to mom dates. Only other moms with equally crazy kids can put up with the madness and mayhem. I’ve long since kissed my lattés goodbye and the only places available are McDonalds or each other’s homes so the kids can cause all the destruction they want without the disapproving stares and tsk-tsks from single chicks.

motherhood

Momday Blues

Photo from youandmemagazine

Photo from youandmemagazine.com

Most people have no idea what moms do at home on a daily basis. I must admit, it seems so easy and relaxing as compared to say, a sewage clearance guy who has to wade through 15 inches of crap all day. Or a shark feeder. Now that’s a tough job.

Moms, on the other hand, have a pretty easy life. I mean, how tough is it to take care of a baby? Just shove some candy into their hands and make them watch TV all day while we take a nap or play some computer games.

This is the kind of conversation that sends me into epileptic fits.

Dude: What exactly do you do at home all day? It must be very relaxing being a stay-home mom.

Me: Well, I mostly sit around sipping my latte and chilling out. Watch a little Oprah, then head out for some scones and pastries.

Yeah, right, you misinformed moron.

My day begins at 7 (sometimes 5.45) when my kid starts shouting. I make his milk, feed him, wipe his ass. Then I make breakfast, drive the husband to work, rush back, cook lunch, do the dishes, do the laundry, clean the house, iron the clothes. In between, I’ve got to tell stories, sing and juggle to make sure Tru is sufficiently entertained. In short, I’m in a frenzy for most of the day until he goes to bed at night. Then I have my only decent meal of the day, write my blog and try to get rid of the ringing in my ears. And the madness starts all over again the next morning.

Plus, I’m carrying a 32-week-old child in my giant stomach, which just makes all of the above a lovely walk in the park.

So it’s not any wonder that I get Monday Blues just like any other job. I haven’t had an off-day, a public holiday or any sort of break in 11 months and I’m about as high-strung as a nervy kid on coke. I don’t think I’ve ever been screamed at this much in any other job. Just the slightest slip-up and my little man makes his displeasure known through one of his pterodactyl shrieks.

And the whole time, there’s absolutely no one for me to scream at or gripe to in return.

After a nice weekend with Superdad in action, the thought of Mondays make my heart sink and my stomach churn just a little. You’d think it gets easier as the days go by, but I wake up every Monday morning to the unmistakable feeling of dread that hits me like a ton of bricks.

So it begins. Another week that seems to stretch on forever. With any luck, I’ll make it to the weekend in one piece.