If We're Rubbing Salt in the Wound, We Might as Well Make a Margarita...

Since "retiring" from my career in association management, I have developed a crazy sensitivity to all things "Stay-at-Home-Mom" related.

Like the word "homemaker." Our CPA insisted on using that as my occupation on our tax forms. I lobbied hard for Chief of Operations because, let's face it, this place would not run without me (sorry, honey). I am in charge of

• procurement (everyone has food to eat, clothes to wear and birthday cards/presents to give to recipients through no effort of their own),
• event planning (I scout both play dates and date nights, arrange for all babysitters and likely have picked the restaurant),
• development (the three-and-a-half year old has not yet lost limbs or digits, he has play dates and attends temple as often as we are comfortable taking him) and
• about half of the finances (admittedly, not my strong suit, which is why we have a CFO here at Chez Zimmer).

So tell me how the title Chief of Operations does NOT apply here?

Now, I know a lot of working moms would kill or maim to be in my position. Truth be told, I would maim (although maybe not yet kill) to be in their positions, too. I have been trying to get back to work for about a year. I am the closest I have been, having had a great interview with COSI last week. But this SAHM gig was not ever intended to last forever. The fact that it has lasted this long has added mounting frustration to the gig.

So, you can imagine that when people assume I have loads of time to either just hang out or to dedicate to them and their pet projects because I do not "work outside of the home", I go a little, well, apeshit.

When a retired friend assumed I would be available to help with her latest pet project, it was fresh salt in the unemployed-mom wound. She did not ask if I would be willing to volunteer, it was implied that I would be there. This particular friend has chutzpah for days anyway, so usually i just roll my eyes and move on. This one, though, poured enough salt in the wound for a grande margarita.

I will be elated to return to work for many reasons. For one, I think I'll be one of those women who is a better Mommy when I spend time "outside the home." When my non-mommy brain is being stimulated, I believe I'll be grateful to come home to my family, the ones who really matter. For another, I spent way too much on an education to be making the world's best pot roast and failing miserably at potty training.

Everyone says that being a mom is the world's toughest job. I'm not here to agree or disagree. After watching "Deadliest Catch," I think crab boat guy has a pretty good shot at that claim as well. However, I think we do start to stop assuming that just because women are at home (and may or may not arrange for pre-school for their kids on some days) they have unlimited time to do your bidding. I, for one, am way too busy extracting all that salt and lime juice from my wounds and making margaritas.