Stay-At-Home Mom Guilt

When I stop taking my job as a mom so seriously and stop wondering about whether or not I’m doing the right thing, I let everything else wait while I play with the kids.  Now that my house cleaning routine is a habit, I’m a better, smarter housekeeper.  Even last week, when the kids were in the throes of Hand-Foot-Mouth Disease and I had whatever awful bug hit me, there was a semblance of order around here that we maintained out of habit.  The house has never looked better, and I am spending more time than ever just loving on the babies.  Naturally, we’re all thrilled with this change of pace.    


Perhaps the biggest perk is that I’m breaking free of what I call “Stay-At-Home Mom Guilt.”  Certainly, guilt is a good, healthy thing when it signals we’ve done something wrong that needs to be rectified.  Other times, though, we bow down to external pressures to be a certain way or feel badly when we don’t meet our self-imposed guidelines.  


Before I got our house in order, I would experience an emotional pendulum swing every time I carved out time to play with the kids.  I swung from pleasure to guilt.  Pleasure to guilt.  Pleasure to guilt.  


Pleasure.  I’d be tickling the kids on the ground between stories and think, “Oh!  This is awesome!  I love being a mom.  Look at them!  They’re so happy.  Oh, I can’t get enough of those giggles.”  


Then the emotional pendulum swung the other direction.  Guilt.  “You’ve been playing with the kids for half an hour.  You’ve read every book in the bin twice.  Better get back to work.”     


I’d either feel like I was being too extravagant in the attention I was giving the children or feel like I was neglecting them when I gave them less than 100% of my attention.  It was rotten because I’d feel awful when the house looked awesome because I knew I hadn’t spent much time with the kids, and I felt awful about the state of the house when I spent a bunch of time with the kids.  Stay-At-Home Mom Guilt.  


I don’t know if I’ll ever go to bed and say to myself, “I feel like I struck the perfect balance today.”  For now, this is my litmus test of a good day:

  1. Did you get to spend focused, quality time with the kids today?  (Even if it was just for five minutes at a time throughout the day.)  
    • Yes – Good job, Mama!  
    • No – Don’t be too hard on yourself, but make it a point to spend focused, quality time with them tomorrow.  They’re the reason you’re home in the first place.
  2. Would you panic at the state of the house if the doorbell rang?
    • Yes
      • Are you panicking because you were lazy with the housework today or because you were busy doing mom stuff?  
        • I was lazy.  –  We all need a day off from time to time.  Pick it up tomorrow.
        • I was busy doing mom stuff.  –  Good, that’s what you’re home for anyway!
    • No
      • You’re a rockstar!  Way to keep up with the house!

One of Jane’s favorite activities is getting into her dress-up bin and trying on every single costume inside at least once.  She’ll go from Tinker Bell to a horse to Elmo to a dragon to a dinosaur to a bumble bee to a ladybug to Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz to Dora to “Supergirl” in a cape in a matter of minutes.  

Getting a fidgety two-year-old in and out of those costumes every other minute wears on your patience–especially when that two-year-old is in the middle of putting on the dragon costume when she decides she wants to be a bumble bee instead.

Stay-At-Home Mom Guilt would tell me that I’m not supposed to be spending a half hour in the middle of the day, helping the kids in and out of costumes while we have a dance party to a Taylor Swift concert on Netflix in the middle of the day.     

Then you see your daughter dressed up as a horse with a big, goofy smile.

And your son is at her feet in an Elmo costume.

And they’re both perfectly healthy.

And they call you “Mama.”



Janie and Walt won’t remember if a few dishes pile up in the sink or if I let Monty’s nose prints go uncleaned from the sliding glass door.  Until they’re old enough to have their own memories, I’m taking an obscene amount of pictures to document their lives.  Hopefully they’ll look at them and see that their mom tried her hardest to love them extravagantly as best she could as we went about our days.  No self-imposed Stay-At-Home Mom Guilt is going to stop me from doing that!  

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