The End of the Line

There was a day when moms lived at home. Perfectly manicured women wore pearls and high heels while simultaneously ironing socks and underwear.

Wait a second. My bad. That’s just the TV Land reruns.

Here’s the thing, though: We stay-at-home-moms, the ones of the 21st century, don’t live up to the pearl and high-heels standard. Our kids walk in the door to discover us in “easy walkers” and “dungarees”. There is spit-up on the floor, in our hair, and on the Wii that the five-year-old played all day. (Once a month we clean it up and post pictures on Pinterest of our happy homes.)

I don’t mean to portray us stay-at-home moms as lazy. I’m just saying our priorities are different. We’re running businesses while raising kids, cooking dinner while writing books, conference-calling while folding the last darn towel.

We’re a generation of multi-taskers. We’ve gotten really good at it.
But are we too good at it?

There was a day when women lived at home. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.

And as a mom, I'm learning there are 2400 ways to be “home” and not really be “home”.

So today, without donning my June Cleaver pearls or high heels, I’m purposing to go back in time.

I may not get the socks ironed or the underwear starched—but I will put down the phone. The computer. The books.

And I will go back, if only for ten minutes at a stretch. When she’s grown I will have plenty of time for conference calls.

Today, I want her to know she’s the only one on the end of my line.

****

Bekah Hamrick Martin is the author of The Bare Naked Truth. She can be reached at
www.facebook.com/bekahhamrickmartin, unless she’s turned off the
computer for a spell.