The fact is it’s a 24/7 job and it’s a recipe for near insanity. I feel as though if it were my job, it would somehow be so much more manageable because you leave at the end of the day. But being a stay-at-home parent means no breaks, no weekends, no sick leave.
Just occasional slivers of time when they’re sleeping or a grandparent has blessed you with childcare where you can just breathe.
I also missed and still miss the mental stimulation of working; there’s only so many times you can play the same game of cars up and down the hallway before you drive yourself insane.
There are, of course, moments of exquisite joy and happiness. The sound of my son’s squeal as he’s being chased, the warm glow of love and protectiveness that washes over me when I look down at my sleeping daughter on my chest. My life is so much richer for having them.
I also expect – hope?! – that as…