Secret Mommyhood Confession

Ok…it’s not Saturday, but I am giving you my confession anyway…

This is not how I expected life as a family to be.

I know, lame confession, right?  I mean…who DOES expect what they get (ok, some of you probably have exactly what you thought was coming. I am not that prophetic).

Anyway…what is going on around me?  Not what I pictured.

Not in a whiney way…but not in a totally super way either.

It’s just…different.

Growing up, I had a mom who was supermom.  She won’t admit that, but now that I am a mom?  I know she was.

As a kid, I figured that was what being a mom would be.

She stayed home for the first part of our childhood.  She was (um…IS) an excellent cook–a homemade meal was on the table 5 days a week.

Our house was ALWAYS clean.  I don’t ever remember toy messes lasting long.  When we were done with one thing, I got picked up and put away.  At the time we were done.  Not minutes before bed.  And certainly NEVER EVER left out over night.

She did a full house clean every Saturday.  FULL HOUSE CLEAN.  dusting, vacuuming, floor scrubbing (on hands and knees), bathroom cleaning, sheet changes on every bed every other Saturday, and windows in nice weather.

She did laundry EVERY DAY.

Then she went back to school and back to work.

And nothing changed at home.  At least to me?  As a kid?  Nothing changed.

As I got older, I knew I wanted to be a mom, but I knew I would be a working mom.

I assumed my husband would also be working.

But somehow?  I figured the house would get cleaned and picked up and a good family meal would be served each night.

I did not expect…

My kid to see that I had no idea what I was doing…and distrust me for it.

To be so tired after work that I would rather eat McDonald’s that put for the effort to put a meal on the table.

My husband to be laid off from work…and then be out of work for over a year (thanks, stupid economy).

My husband to be back in school.

To be the main bread winner for the family.

To be battling depression and anxiety.

To have such a cute, lovable little boy that sometimes it makes me cry.

To be so damn unsure of myself in every. single. area of my life.


the destruction that is our living room

the danger zone that is my kitchen floor

The mess that is my island

Every. Single. Surface has been hit by hurricane Ed

...Or Hurricane Life

I didn’t expect this either:

the working mom Suzy Homemaker

after a long day of work, I throw on my apron (thanks, Tonya!!) and mix up some corn muffins to go with the meal that has been plupping away in the crock pot.

I didn’t expect to rely on my husband so much to get household chores done and to get the groceries and to be the primary caretaker.

This was not what I imagined.

But in most ways?  I wouldn’t change it either.

This is how we are.  It’s how we are getting through life.

And if that means Cort is changing poopy pantses and I am making corn muffins in a skirt and boots?

Well, then that is how it is for Sluiter Nation right now.

Tune in Tuesday for this week’s Top Ten Tuesday:  The Top Ten favorite blog posts…of my own!  I encourage you to participate and link up…it is like giving a little tour of your blog to people..and I am excited to read what your favorite posts are of your own.

Also?  There is a SWEET GIVEAWAY going on at my book blog, Katie’s Bookcase!  It’s a book to help keep the little ones busy…which is a MUST HAVE this time of year!  Please join in!

Kate vs. Wal-Mart

I know Kimberly is not doing Secret Mommyhood Confessions today since it’s a holiday and all…but I have one for you.

I hate Wal-Mart.

Now, I know some of you are running to your Google readers and hitting unsubscribe as fast as you can because I just insulted the temple of all frugal mommies…but hear me out.

I don’t necessarily hate YOUR Wal-Mart…just every Wal-Mart I have ever been in–which is pretty limited.

In fact, up until today, I don’t think I had been in a Wal-Mart in over three years.

I know.

Go ahead.  Soak that in.

So what brought me there today?

Christmas returns.


Yes, Wal-Mart AND returns.  I know.  What was I thinking?

I eased myself in.  First I had a very pleasant return to Kohls.  Then I pleasantly returned something to Bed, Bath, & Beyond.

Before leaving that parking lot, I said a little prayer for my life, started the car and headed to Wal-Mart.

As soon as I got into the parking lot, I began to curse.

First of all, they have those stupid slanty parking spaces–you know, the ones where you have to drive a certain way to park into.

Those parking places alone do not make me mad.  They have them at Macy’s too and I have never been bothered by them there.

But at Wal-Mart?  People do not know how to operate the parking lot.  Even though it’s been this way forever.

So I am already frustrated because it takes me 5 minutes to get into a parking spot…not because I couldn’t find one…because I had to wait for people to figure out the parking lot.

The car parked, I start toward the entrance.

As soon as I got to the door, I was bombarded by no less than THREE homeless-looking guys asking for donations to several things.  Now, again, I don’t mind giving to charities (in fact I give to Salvation Army when the ring their bells, and we give to others regularly each year), but I do mind strange, large men getting all up in my grill about saving people.  uncool.

Moving along…

I get inside and an old man takes my item, scans it, and sticks a return sticker on it for me.  Ok, whatever.  Not sure why Wal-Mart has this process, but it doesn’t bother me.

I quickly find the Customer Service at the front of the store and let myself think for a second, “huh.  they’ve re-done this Wal-Mart since I have last been here.  Seems cleaner and newer…still smells the same though.  Eh, maybe it won’t be so bad.”

Mistake.  Wrong.  Incorrect.

I stand in line with my helicopter to return.  I am behind an older couple with a cart and one item.  The customer service desk has four ladies behind it–three who appear to actually be doing returns and one who is supervising and helping.

From this distance?  Things are still fine.

The middle customer service lady finishes up, sends someone on her way, and takes the old couple.

I wait patiently as it looks like the customer service lady on the Left will be opening up.

She does.  She begins talking with the supervisor lady about her headache.

I am the only person in line with my lonely toy.

The supervisor suggests that she is hung over.

Seems inappropriate conversation seeing as there are little kids with the lady on the right.

Middle lady finishes with old couple.

I am eagerly waiting to be waved forward.

Middle lady adds to headache conversation (perhaps Left lady should have her blood pressure checked.  What?)

Finally Middle lady sees me.  I smile.  She says, “well?”


I tell her I want to return my item, please.

She takes it from me, scans it, shoves a return receipt at me and says, “sign this.”  (um…please?), and grabs it away.

While this is taking place, Right customer service lady finishes (all this while?  Headache conversation has been going on.  Along with much talk of booze.), and a larger man in pajama shorts and a Red Wing T-shirt with holes in it approaches her and says, “yeah I called earlier because you people didn’t give me my full refund on my thing.”

Middle lady (who is still not talking to me.  not sure what I did, but at least she is actually still working on my return) says, “oh yea, I totally e-ffed (yes, she said ‘e-ffed’ and not the REAL word) that one up.  It’s right there.”

Still inappropriate.

Then she turns back to me, hands me cash and says, “15.92, bye.”

“Um, thank you.  Happy New Year,” I say back.

She is already talking about how maybe she needs to “get  laid” to get rid of her headache.


So I start to walk to the toy section to pick Eddie a new toy when I realize, they just gave me cash.  I do not have to shop here!


And with that?  I leave stupid Wal-Mart.

But not before another parking lot struggle.

Oh and? I bought Eddie some Melissa and Doug toys at a local toy store, in case you were wondering.

I guess I won’t be sponsored by Wal-Mart to go to any blogging conferences.

Happy 2011.

Secret Mommy-hood Confession Saturday

I could never ever be a stay at home mom…

Friends?  Traditional roles have been completely thrown out the window in our home.

Let me back up.

As a kid, my mom stayed home with us until I was in the 6th grade.  Even then she was still home mostly.  She not only raised three kids, but I can’t ever remember our house being a disaster area or having toys strewn about or having crumbs all over the floor.

Unless dad was in charge.

Fast forward to today, Saturday, December 18, 2010.

It is my first day of winter break.  The first day of a lovely 2-week long stretch.

In my mind?  We are all happy and family-ish together since I am always gone.  We cuddle and play and eat and just enjoy each other without too much commitment elsewhere.

you guys?  today?  did not happen like that.

First of all, our kitchen faucet died yesterday, so this morning, Cort has everything out from under the sink spread all over the island, the table, and the counters.  He also has pulled out the old faucet, and he is off to Lowe’s for the new parts.  In case you didn’t know?  Cort can do anything.  He is all Handy Manny up in here.

Has he ever done any plumbing before?  No.  But he is all awesome at it anyway.  Because that is how he rolls.

So I am in charge of our Short Stack while daddy is gone.

No big deal, right?

In the course of the hour that daddy is gone….

  • Eddie rolls 3 different toy vehicles across the coffee table and into our Christmas tree exploding needles from here to Florida.
  • Eddie takes a giant dump.
  • Eddie takes his Golden Graham snack and spreads it all over the floor announcing that his bowl is ‘aww unnn” (all gone).  riiiiiggght.
  • I decide to give Eddie left over penne noodles and sauce for lunch.
  • Eddie decides to throw penne noodles and sauce at the floor, the cat, the wall, the blinds, the table, and finally in his mouth.
  • Eddie decides to wear red sauce and noodles (thank goodness for my decision not to put clothes on him after his dumpy diaper change)
  • I have to clean Eddie off by standing him on the counter…where all the “treasures” from under the sink still are…which he REALLY wants to explore while I scrub red sauce out from under his pits.
  • I change his diaper again because the outside is covered in red sauce that while tasty?  Does not match my house.

Just as I have Eddie cleaned up and dressed, Cort comes back in.  The scene?  It looks like a pine tree that was snacking on golden grahams was murdered by noodle-pelting.

Eddie is all happy and playing and watching Sesame Street on Tivo.

I?  I am standing there with dirty wipes in my hands…waving them as white flags.

Seriously?  What the hell just happened?

So I ask Cort…

“Why doesn’t this happen to you?  Why, in an HOUR of being left alone, do I get it ALL?”

“It does happen.  Every day.  Constantly.”

WHAT?  How does he deal with it?

He patiently puts down his Lowe’s purchases, takes the wipes, and directs me to sit down.

He then proceeds to clean up the crime scene high chair/kitchen area while I sit and ponder where I lost my “mom patience”.

And then I realize…

I never had it.

I go to work, I bring home the paycheck, I make some dinners once in a while, and I cuddle the boy when he is sick, scared, or hurt.

Everything else?  Cort.

I have often wondered why, if he is home all day, is the house not smelling of bleach and lysol when I get home.

Now I know.

One small little man can reek havoc on a small house in the time it takes  to go blow my nose.

As Cort was finishing up the tidying process and moving onto installing a faucet?  I said, “I sort of wish I was at work.”

Even though I don’t.

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