Story #2: Maia is a little obsessed with President Obama. She recognizes his voice on the radio and gets excited if she sees a picture of him. Today, the kids and I were standing in line at Alterra coffee shop and Maia yelled, “Mama, look … Obama.” I was instantly embarrassed and sheepishly looked around the room for the unsuspecting man who was just falsely accused of being President Obama. Instead, and to my relief, I realized that she saw a photo of him on a greeting card and there was no actual doppelgänger in the room.

new kitchen, originally uploaded by Sydney Shimko.

Remember the stove and refrigerator we made this spring? Maia just told Jason that she put them on Craigslist.

"Mom look at my cow!", originally uploaded by Sydney Shimko.

“this is where the milk comes out. ”

Leggos – look at the box, originally uploaded by Sydney Shimko.

Maia: “Mama, I made the house, the airplane, the car, and the tree for the man!”

A little while after taking this photo, she built some new pieces and said, “now look at my body of work.” I asked her how she knew what that meant and she answered, “it’s an expression.”

I don’t know where she learns so much.

Maia: “… Yeah it’s a job. You have to ride your bike really fast, and if you go really fast you get a new toothbrush. You can do anything … run, walk, bike, throw balls … anything, except you can’t jump up and down on your bike.”

S: No, do you think there should be?

M: Yes, because we all love each other. Can we make one up and have a party?

Lately Tarek has been so happy to give Maia a hug when they get up in the morning, and I realized how special it is that they get to be together every day. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this and to add it to the “Pros” side of staying home with the kids.

I really can’t leave them alone for a second!, originally uploaded by Sydney Shimko.

It was about 11 AM and we had recently gotten home from the gym (where I had a blissful hour without constant demands from tiny voices) and the playground (where I served snack, pretended to be a pirate, and worked to prevent any major disputes or broken bones). We had been in the house for a few minutes and I thought the kids were playing in their room, when Maia came to tell me Tarek was digging in the plant in our room. (We thought teaching them about gardening was a good thing!) I sent them to the living room, so I could get the vacuum and start to clean up the mess. Thirty seconds later, I came in to find all the pillows off the couch and the kids running, screaming and jumping around the room.

Looking at the couch reminded me how much it needed to be vacuumed, and I had the vacuum out anyway. I now understood completely that I could not finish the couch or bedroom clean up jobs with kids acting like a raging tornado, so I strapped Tarek in his high chair and asked Maia to sit too until I could finish the clean up and make them lunch. This restraining method worked well enough, with some blocks to play with and a few stops in my cleaning to mediate disputes and/or protect children and furniture.

Then it was time for me to make and serve their lunches. This task, like most, is accompanied by statements like, “Mom, I don’t think you’re going as fast as you can,” or perhaps, as I walk into the dining room with my hands full of their plates and food, “Can I have some milk?” It is simply not possible to give them everything they need as immediately as they think they need it.

After lunch, I changed Tarek’s diaper, and he fell asleep. Maia played for a while before I put her in the bedroom too. She didn’t sleep, but stayed relatively quiet for about 40 minutes. It was about 12:50 PM when she went into her room and I had a phone call for a job at 1:00 PM. On multiple previous occasions in similar scenarios, I have found myself trying to carefully explain why it is that I need to put the other person on hold for a minute – without giving out the truth of the matter, which is that Maia is out of her bed, on the toilet and yelling for help.

This time, I had a full 30 minutes of conversation, and only during that last few minutes of wrapping things up was Maia yelling progressively more loudly, “CAN I GET UP!?” Amazingly, this didn’t wake up her brother and I was able to finish the phone conversation.

Then, I had to hope Tarek stayed asleep long enough for me to wash the dishes (by hand) and take a shower before having to prepare a snack for both of them and move on to another activity to keep them entertained for the duration of the afternoon. Meanwhile, I needed to prepare a campfire-only meal plan for a 4-day weekend away from home. I had already given up the idea of actually purchasing the food that day.

Getting back to Jason’s colleague’s comment, “just sit at home” really is not how I would describe my life. For me, “just sitting at home” doesn’t even sound like fun. Going to a place of work, occupying my brain with my own thoughts and occasionally having a stimulating adult conversation seems like a vacation. Add in the possibility of receiving something approximating praise for work done or the thought of avoiding an identity crisis every time I am asked “what do you do?” and what is left of my shredded sense of self-worth starts to do somersaults.

Recently, Jason put the kids to bed one evening, while I went to join a group bike ride. I didn’t realize the extent of freedom and happiness I was feeling during the ride, until two people, separately, made comments about how much I was smiling.

Anyone who has read this blog before knows that our kids are hilarious and we have a great time doing many fun things. I have the privilege to “stay home,” which means that Jason and I do not both have to rush home to make dinner and spend the weekend doing chores. “Staying home” allows my kids to go to the Audubon Preschool, a 2.5 hour program that is impossible for an employed person to manage without significant outside help, or a very flexible work schedule.

Stay-at- home parents make the decision to do so for a variety of reasons, but I am certain not one of them involves the hope of sitting on the couch watching Days of Our Lives while “being taken care of” by the spouse who shared in the decision.

M: Here comes the witch cleaner!

S: witch cleaner?

M: Yeah, she cleans up the messes you make and then locks you in the castle.

I think she’s on to something.

She feels sad sometimes and talks about Dede, but I guess this time, she really just wanted lunch.