It's One of the Perks!

Oreos, that is.  I maintain (and have for many years) that it’s my right as a stay-at-home mom to buy a special package of the delectable brown and white cookies (or two, when the events of the day call for extreme measures) and hide them in a place where no-one but myself will ever find them.  I also reserve the right to pull them out after everyone else (my husband included) is sleeping, and munch to my little heart’s content.  Guilt is not invited to my evening forays—as I said before, it’s one of the perks of my job.  And it’s a perk I will take over mandatory monthly employee training any day. 
 

The perks of being a stay-at-home mom may seem few and far between to the amateur observer.  Hardly enough to entice a gal to give up the luxury of a blissfully self-satisfied life in exchange for a job where you may be spit upon, spilled upon, and (how to put it delicately?) defecated upon at any given moment.  

I don't receive health benefits (unless you count building up my immune system one elementary-school-bug at a time as preventative care), sick days, or paid vacations (or any vacation at all, for that matter.... or pay either, while we're on the subject).  I don’t get overtime for services rendered after midnight and before sunrise, and I don’t have the luxury of handing in my two-weeks notice when I decide I have finally had enough.

So why, then, do I choose to do it?  Though the perks of my job may not seem like much from the outside looking in, those of us down in the trenches together understand that the perks of being a stay-at-home mom are beautiful and priceless nonetheless.  I would like to share with you some of the reasons why I have the best job in the world.  Additionally, a well-timed package of Double-Stuf Oreo’s never hurts.

Flexibility 

For starters, I get to be my own boss, without the inherent demands of a risky business venture.  I am lucky to have a supportive husband to stand in  as my partner-in-crime.  However, his domain is largely at work, and during the day when he is not at home, I am the one calling the shots (of course I am also in charge when he is at home, but don't tell him I said that).

I have never been one who responds well to others telling me what to do.  My motivation and drive come from within, and left to my own devices, I have always performed quite well.  (The contrary is also true, which may explain why I hate workout videos so much—they are so bossy!).   

As a stay-at-home mom, I have the freedom to plan our days’ activities and be accountable to no one but myself for them.  At the beginning of each day, it is up to me to decide if we are going to the park, the mall or the store.  Whether we will have a play date or stay home.  And ultimately, whether we make good use of our time or not.  And if our plans veer off the intended course for any number of reasons, I can choose to go with the flow, or throw a world-class tantrum (unfortunately I tend to choose the latter—I am working on that).  But, the choice is entirely mine.

I enjoy having the freedom to craft our schedule to suit my tastes and the temperaments of my children.  Being the night owl that I am, for example, I love the fact that I don’t have to appear at an office promptly at 8:00 am, in a stuffy, pressed lady-suit, with my hair expertly blown dry and my makeup impeccable.  That’s not to say that I won’t receive a wake-up call the moment the sun rises (or, yes, often before), but the perks of my job allow me to remain barely functional until a more decent hour.  And who else can say that they are allowed to show up for work in their pajamas?

Reality Check

Secondly, since becoming a stay-at-home mom, I have unlocked the secret of youth.  What better way is there to spend your day than by traveling back in time to revisit your youthful innocence?  Now, I will be the first to admit that I can only take so much of a game of Barbie or Polly Pocket.  But on those occasions when I can sit back and observe my children’s imaginations at work, I am effortlessly transported back to my past.  To a time when my greatest concern was whether Barbie would have time to marry Ken before my mom called me for lunch. 

I have come to understand that the best way to escape the stark realities we face as adults is to spend an hour sitting on the floor, playing with a child.  (Occasionally this scenario also leads to an unintended nap, but most children have radar for picking up on the early signs of this would-be tragedy and ensuring it never comes to fruition.)

The art of playing gets lost as we grow older.  We focus more on to-do lists, fret about perceived injustices and feel slighted when our friends succeed where we have failed.  Sometimes I long for a return to the days when I was free to ride bikes with my friends from dawn till dusk, coming in only when compelled by an empty stomach.  Taking the time each day to play with my children, or at the very least, stop and watch them playing together, helps me recapture some of the magic of youth.

My biggest fans  

            Finally, how many people are able to say they have witnessed a miracle?  In my job, I see them every single day.  It’s a miracle, for example, that my children are even here at all.  Somehow, I survived five pregnancies, births, and subsequent “first years”, and chose to do it all over again each time until our family felt complete.  It’s also a miracle that my rambunctious four-year old has yet to land my baby in the ER with her overly enthusiastic big-sister hugs. 

            However, the biggest miracle of all, and perhaps the one that keeps me going day after day is the fact that my kids love me even though I’m not perfect.  They love me when my hair’s not done, my face is bare and my middle is frumpy.  I am just mom and they love me, no matter how I come.  How great is it to know that one little person (or five, in my case) thinks you are the best thing on the planet (even better than ice cream, though they may not always admit it)?

            When my daughter Plucky was born, she introduced me to a whole new level of love.  I am one who enjoys solitude, so having a daughter who insisted on being glued to me every waking moment (and, as an infant, every sleeping moment as well), took a toll on me.  My instincts were to push her away, and sometimes I catch myself doing it still as I clamor for my bubble of free space.  But it struck me a few years ago that it really is great being the light of someone’s life.  I know her adoration will only last so long and soon I will be the one clamoring for her attention before she saunters out the door with her friends.

            My favorite part of the day is walking into my baby's room in the morning (despite the fact, as you may remember, that I am most definitely not a morning person) and watching the ecstatic and immediate grin light up his precious face.  He is grinning because of me.  He is sublimely happy to see me and as a mom, it melts my heart to see it every single time.

Babies and children are very forgiving and even if I denied my kids a treat after dinner, wouldn’t let my baby play in the toilet before bed, and took away screen time from my older kids because they were fighting, by the time they wake up the next morning, all is forgiven.  Forgotten too, and they will not be reminding me of my shortcomings or throwing my failures back in my face at a later date.  Possessing the elusive ability to forgive is part of the magic of being a child.  

In the end, I am the sun that lights up my children’s days and they love nothing more than seeing me first thing in the morning (though they like me even better on the rare occasion that I have bought them a box of fruit loops cereal for breakfast).  Of course they do sometimes get antsy and decide that their sun needs to rise before it’s fully ready.  But even a grumpy sun can’t resist the delightful smiles of the ones who love them best.  Not for long, anyway.

So here’s to the perks!  And here’s to repeating the mantra ‘It’s One of the Perks’ in your head every time you discover a new one.  The hidden stash of Oreos is just the beginning!