Please, give me comfortable rocker, a foot stool and a book. Nevermind the book, I'm still trying to find the time to travel with Mr. Bryson.
This whole week, I have been spending so much time in my car that on more than one occassion I thought my ass had fused to the seat. Scratch that; My ass was the seat. Driving endless miles, running endless errands. The Post Office, hardware store, high priced curtain store which lead to the fabric store, food shopping, get the l.p. tanks filled, pet store, Starbucks <-- my errand, jewelry store, the bank, craft store, taxi service for the girls to three different schools, music lessons, dance, soccer, religion class, and choir.
Give me strength. Revoke my license.
2 comments:
Hey--interesting twist on the usual subject.
"Stay-At-Home Mom is Anything But"
The essay could be about the need for a change in the label--that it's really misleading...or it could be an essay about your quest to BECOME the "literal" label...and how difficult that is for the reasons you list in your post. Perhaps a good fit for Parents, Child, Parenting, or Brain, Child.
Whaddya think? :)
I think I would have to flesh it out so it doesn't come across as a "poor me" essay. Afterall moms that work outside the home have to squeeze all this in around their work.
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