Why Do We Do This As A Stay At Home Parent?

 A recent meme I saw sparked the idea for this posthusbands SAHM stay at home parents humor

Now who out there does this as a stay home mom?  Or dad even?  Instead, just picture the picture with say Seth Rogen running and Jennifer Anniston holding the door.

The “working” parent is coming home and we suddenly hit this “need to set fire to the house immediately” psycho-bitch-mom from hell mode.

stay home parent set fire housework

We start yelling asking the kids to please pick up PICK UP YOUR F*CKING SHIT PLEASE and running around like lunatics.

Why do we do this as a stay home parent?

Why do we do this to ourselves…period?

There are days when I really feel more like, it could only be one thing that survived today and it wasn’t the house.  #sorrynotsorry

Actually to be honest…it’s probably most days.  It’s either I look good, the kids are alive, or the house is clean.  2 out of 3 isn’t bad right?

If you were someone to drop by my house on any given afternoon, without notice, there would be toys, pillows, blankets, laundry, dishes, wrappers…etc. (This post would be too long if I listed everything so we will just go with those few).  But I also presume that you are coming to visit me and not my house.  Although, I might ask that you sign a waver before entering the premises just in case you were to slip, trip, or fall on something sharp.

But if you were to get here 10 minutes after my husband got home…you would think I had a maid.  This also goes for people who let me know before they drop by because we all know that we do our best cleaning 20 minutes before someone is coming over, right?

Somehow, we stay at home parents have come to the notion that if our houses are a mess then we are somehow failing at the “job” portion of our stay at home parenting.  I feel that my job is the house and that parenting is just that…parenting.

But now let’s get into whose “job” out of both parents is a more labor involved occupation.

Housework is filled with labor.  No, it’s not hard work, doesn’t take using your brain much, but it’s a lot of moving around.  There’s  bending over, climbing, lifting, squatting, and … you follow.

Laundry alone is a full-time job on it’s own.  There’s the gathering up of small children’s clothes usually by means of squatting to the floor, or the climbing over the bedroom furniture,  because they haven’t quite mastered the laundry basket yet.  Even though you have rehearsed it with them at least a hundred times….just this week.

laundry SAHM stay at home parent

Then it’s lifting the large sized basket of clothes, to the laundry room, that you know damn good and well shouldn’t have this many clothes in it.  Nope, this laundry basket is full because they like to take stuff off the hangers and put it on for 2 seconds, that I don’t see them, and then throw it on the floor.   **grits her teeth**

Then it’s bending over to stuff all the clothes into the washing machine.  I even have front loaders, but I am a tall girl, so I still have to bend.

The transfer from washer to dryer….easiest part of the job.

The worst part is putting all the damn shit clothes away.  There are some days I feel like just shoving the clothes in the drawers, wrinkled, and calling it a day.  **reaches for wine glass and switches on Pandora**

And let’s not forget bedding and towels.  I kid you not…I will wash one of the little monsters bedding and inevitably that night one, if not all 3 will either throw up or pee the bed.  Or have a case of pink eye in which then the sheets have to be washed everyday for the first few days.  To make and unmake a bed you must bend, lift, squat, and climb.  And cuss…a lot…because the corners are NEVER right!

I just got back from vacation so of course I am chin deep in laundry.  So for today the rest of the house will just have to look like I have 3 small children and a teenager who live here.

Possibly the rest of the week.  Oh shit, there’s daddy now…yeah I’m still sitting here.

What do you do as a stay home parent?  Do you tidy up before the other parent gets home? Let me know in the comments!

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A Letter To My Mommy

In honor of the first Mother’s Day since I have started my blog I thought that in honor of my mom…I would post her a letter.  Plus, I am just so bad at sending cards.

Dear Mommy,

Since I can remember you have always been a huge part of my life.  Let’s face it…you gave birth to me and that’s an ordeal all by itself with my 9lb. 9oz. self.  But I don’t think I truly appreciated you as my mother…until I was a mother as well.

I was a rebellious teenager who thought she knew everything there was to know about the world and oh how I was wrong.  I resented you for so many things the day I left home but now I realize that resentment comes with a high price of pain and that it should never be carried onto any next chapter of life.  I have since let go of all of that and feel a better person because of it.

You have been a wonderful grandma to my babies and they all love you so dearly.  You have also been wonderful at loving my stepsons and never making them feel like you weren’t thinking about them in any less way as your own.  

I know there are times through the years that I have been a difficult daughter and you could have given up on me but you didn’t and I will forever be grateful for that.  You never hesitated 3 times in 3 years to be by my side at the birth of each of my babies and it truly comforted me especially after my first when the emotions of my life changing became a little overwhelming for a moment.  You were there to make me feel better and I love and appreciate you more for it.

You should feel proud on this and every Mother’s Day for you have raised 3 caring, crazy, and loving kids who even through the bumps in the road have found their places in adulthood.  They have stepped up to their responsibilities and we all love you dearly! 

I hope you have a wonderful day today and everyday and hope to see you soon!

Love you always,

Trista ❤️

A Letter To Bryan

A Letter To A 17 Year Old

You were just a young boy, all of 10 years old when I met you.  I bonded with you almost immediately for you had an “old sole” and not as hyper as your younger sibling.  You always seemed mature way beyond your years.

Here we are 7 years later and after all my time invested in you…you have decided that you no longer want to be a part of this family.  This same family that has fed you, clothed you, taken you on vacations, guided you, and above all loved you even though the blood that runs through your veins is not the same blood that runs through the rest of ours.

I understand the whole “teenager” phase of life for I too was once a teenager who wanted to be my own person.  But I also knew that for every negative action I produced there was going to be a consequence to that action and that I had to accept the punishment I was dealt.  That’s part of learning to become an adult and it’s our job as parents to correct any bad behavior and try to lead you away from a life of being “a menace to society”.

Somewhere in the last couple years the bond I had with you has been strained.  I have tried to be a good step-mom to you and although I know at times I wasn’t exceptionally great at it, I still tried the best way I knew how. I had never had kids to raise before you and your brother came along.  I was always an aunt and being an aunt is so much easier then being a parent.

You and your brother had a lot of emotional baggage when I met you.  You had been deserted by the one person who was suppose to love and protect you and teach you about the harsh and cruel world we live in.  Your mother.  Instead she chose a life too selfish to ever bare the responsibility of raising children.  Thankfully, the person you should have been calling dad all these years stepped up and made sure you and your brother were provided for.  Therefore, you must understand that when he hears you say you no longer want to be in this family, it hurts him.  I realize he is not someone who is good at showing his emotions but remember son….neither are you.  In 7 years I cannot remember one time you ever saying “I love you” to either of us without us saying it to you first.  Oh wait yes I do remember one time ….it was right after we purchased an iPhone for you.  It took buying you a materialistic item to hear you say those 3 little words.  Do you think that doesn’t hurt our feelings?  Let me assure you that it hurts mine.

I am no longer angry with you for the behavior you displayed when getting caught at doing wrong.  I am disappointed in the way you went about handling it.  Crying to your egg donor mother and making it out to sound like we were just so cruel to you just makes me want to ask why? Why would you try and confide in someone who has never contributed to your life except to get in the middle of a family where she doesn’t belong?  She has no right to know anything about what goes on in OUR family.  She has no rights as a mother what-so-ever and she has never had to deal with any kind of serious responsibility.  Hence that’s why she stays in a hostile relationship instead of putting her big girl panties on and taking responsibility for herself.  She has taken the easy way out her entire life.  And now here you are thinking that you are taking the easy way.  All because you chose to do wrong and then couldn’t accept the punishment dealt.  You sneak and lie and then wonder why we don’t always believe what comes out of your mouth.  In your eyes someone else is always to blame for your misery.  Guess that apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  Your genetic gene pool is full of that.

I want you to understand that all we have ever done is try and make you a part of this family…notice I said make because quite frankly we both believe that the only reason you have stayed with us is because financially we were able to provide you with more then your actual blood line could.  But emotionally you have never truly tried to bond with this family.  I have seen with my own eyes the littles of this family tell you “I love you Bryan” only to get no response from you.  Only after me making a comment to you about it have you responded.  They are so young and don’t understand your emotional status …only that you rejected responding to their love and admiration for you.  It’s funny though that you have no problem “showing” your girlfriend love and emotion.  You buy her useless gifts yet when was the last time you so much as purchased a card for for any of us for a holiday or our birthday? Or even printed one off the computer?  I remember specifically on my birthday you barely mumbled “Happy Birthday”.  As a parent I never expect you to purchase me a gift but some aknowledement, more then a mumble, would be nice.

Someday when you have children of your own maybe you will understand the sacrifices that we made to take you into our family and try and teach you right from wrong.  Yes that meant being hard on you at times but it also means that we care and love you and only wanted what was best for you.  Even though you weren’t biologically either of ours…we still and always will love you.

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A Day In The Life Of Domesticated Momster

A Day With Domesticated Momster

My Day In Detail…

It’s Sunday.  Long gone are the days of sleeping until noon while battling a hangover that’s  wanting to take over my entire body and smelling like whatever establishment I occupied until  the wee hours of the morning of the night before.  Waking up in a type of fog that not even coffee or a dose of 5 hr energy could lift.  My mouth tasting like I had eaten a dead possum laying in the middle of the road on the way home. And continuing my day curled up on the couch with pillow and blanket in close proximity all while watching a marathon of “Lifetime” movies.   Yes this was me…before motherhood…before my husband…now my Sunday’s are much more practical and meaningful….hahaha who am I kidding…Sundays are “pajama” days!  It’s funny that this part of the writing challenge would fall on the least busy day of the week for me.

On this particular Sunday…


7:40am…heard hubby come home from working all night.  Mumbled something along the lines of ‘hi…how was your night?”.  Noticed Little Z was awake and ready for her breakfast.  (I love when only one at a time wakes up…makes the chaos much more controllable…especially while I am trying to get my first dose of caffeine digested.)  Made her breakfast and turned on her choice of cartoon.

8:00am…Snuck into the office for my morning “internet” routine.  I love the internet first thing in the morning.  Some people like reading a paper…I like looking through the world wide web for whatever tickles my fancy  awakens my mind.

8:20am…I hear the tapping of two more toddlers feet shuffling along the wooden floor.  They are rubbing their eyes and muttering “I want something to eat mommy”.  You should see Little M’s hair first thing in the morning ….looks like she wrestled with a fuzzy blanket full of balloons and lost.

images-4Got their breakfast served and positioned them at the table  while they quietly watched whatever cartoon was presenting itself on the TV.  Yes I know that “society” says I shouldn’t let my kids watch tv while sitting at the table eating but quite frankly I don’t care what “society” says because they aren’t raising my 3 toddlers.  I am.  **thought for a whole other blog post**

8:45am…They all finish up with breakfast and wander into the living room, with “security” blankets in tow and find their comfortable places on the couch.  Mind you…I have had to tell them to shhhh and be quiet, because daddy is sleeping, about half a dozen times already.  I have no clue how he sleeps through 5 kids on a Sunday.

9:00am…Still surfing the internet

9:20am…gather up Little B Man’s dirty clothes that didn’t quite make it into the hamper…”supermom on caffeine” is now starting to present herself and has started her first load of laundry for the day.  (I would like to know how the “Duggars” mom stays on top of her “19 Kids And Counting“‘s laundry pile…I know she has several washers and dryers but it’s still a lot of dirty clothes to tackle.)  Putting them in the washer and dryer is the easy part…folding and putting away takes lots of patience and effort…especially if you are trying to be “super laundry girl” who doesn’t leave them in a heap on top of the dryer or constantly restarting  the “steam and fluff” setting to avoid having to fold them while still getting the wrinkles out.


11:15am…In two hours I have shushed the kids at least a dozen more times.  I have made a snack consisting of 3 different kinds of fruits.  (That’s the problem with them all having minds of their own now…they all 3 always want something different…last night we had to draw straws to see who got to pick the “time to settle down” flick of the the evening)

12:00pm…Lunchtime for the littles consisting of BBQ pulled pork sandwiches from a few nights ago.  By this time of day I am starting to get a little “toddler” crazy.  They are all fully awake and bouncing off the walls and I swear it’s worse when my husband is on night shift and trying to sleep.  It’s like their little radars are beeping to remind them to be loud and obnoxious and see how many times mommy can lose her shit!


12:31pm…I sit down at the computer to try and finish a thought only to be interrupted by the constant dinging of  the dryer which has gone off not once, not twice, but THREE times now to remind me that it’s time to fold the clothes!  Someone in this house keeps turning on the “wrinkle guard” option so instead of the dryer just turning of  it starts back up every couple minutes until someone tends to the items inside.  It’s a brilliant option developed by dryer manufacturers but for me it’s just a constant reminder that my laziness is wasting electricity.

2:30pm…hubby is awake now and making a mess in the kitchen before he gets ready for work.  I think I might have actually got a couple blinks of a nap in there while the kids were “momentarily” behaving themselves.   Baby Z also dozed off even if it was for only 20 minutes at best.   Keeps the “crabbies” at bay.  Now starts the “afternoon” chaos.   Right now I am watching my husband as he writes on the egg container “HARDBOILED” ….twice….with a sharpie…as I hover over him making sure that the sharpie doesn’t get misplaced and then gets into the hands of my 3 year old toddler…the same toddler who has decorated the walls, doors, beds, and just about anything else with a surface…in which I have scrubbed off on more then one occasion.  (By the way…the “washable/wipeable” crayons really do just that…they are every mother, with a decorative toddler’s, dream coloring utensils.)

images-6 images-7

2:50pm…time to get ready for the gym…the kids are all well aware that daddy is awake now and are all in full on scream patrol!  Mommy needs a break.  Off to the gym I go…must keep up with my “trophy wife” status.  **literally laughs out loud**


4:45pm…home from the gym…had a great workout due to the fact that the gym was pretty much empty.  I like when the gym is vacant…not only do I get to use every piece of workout equipment that I want without having to wait but I also don’t feel stupid trying something new.  Inevitably every time I get the courage to try out a new gym apparatus I fail miserably and usually end up hurting myself, more out of embarrassment rather then pain.

5:00pm…WTF is for dinner?  **opens refrigerator in hopes that the light in her head turns on**  Oh look at that…lots of leftovers…problem solved.

6:00pm…Let the countdown to bedtime begin.  First off…bathing the dirty little monsters.  There is something about these last 2 hours before bedtime where a force bigger then all of us takes over…let’s say my full Momster mode comes out.  All of us are tired and cranky and just wanting the day to be over.  They seem to fight over every toy, tattle about every little moment and mommy’s patience meter is completely tapped out!


6:45pm…I realize that I didn’t get the load of girls clothes in the dryer folded…DAMMIT!  Here they stand soaking wet wrapped in towels while I try and gather up anything resembling pajamas…leggings and a t-shirt?  Works for me.  **listens to them whine several times about these NOT being pajamas**

7:40pm…That’s a wrap people…12 hours… in a day of the life… of yours truly.


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Pass The Xanax My Teen Is Driving

Yesterday our oldest got his driver’s license!!! ((looks at bottle of bailey’s and then looks at her coffee))  It was his second attempt but he passed.  I should be happy for him and there is a part of me that is because even though it was so many moons ago, I still remember being 16 and so excited that I could finally DRIVE!!!  But now as a parent, being responsible for what my 16 year old does behind the wheel frightens me.  I had to sign a form stating that I will be held responsible for any of his actions while driving.  Like seriously?  I can’t be with him every second and regardless how much we try to teach our teens right from wrong they are still going to make their own decisions.  Decisions that could ultimately haunt their parents.  I totally understand why some parents make the choice not to let their kids get their license until they are 18.  Even though not much changes in a teens mentality between the ages of 16 and 18, at least at 18 they are considered an adult and responsible for their own actions.

'Dad put that sign there to keep tabs on my driving!'

Now Junior B (our 16 year old) has always been a very level headed individual.  Even at the little ol age of 10 when I first met him he was older beyond his years.  An old sole I guess one could say.  He’s not into being the most popular or the best well liked.  He has a handful of friends and he is fine with that.  He doesn’t strive for attention and I can honestly say that he has only made a handful of “truly” stupid choices since I have known him.  Does that mean that I am just going to hand over the keys anytime he needs to get somewhere?….NOPE.

'I've completed driver's ed, auto repair and sex ed. Now may I borrow the car?'

I am sure there will be times that I will use his being able to drive to my full advantage…like when we have run out of milk and I am just too tired to go to the store.  But for now, until we have “tested” the waters…his driving a vehicle without me or hubby in it…will be limited.

Parent Supervision on Teen Driving.

The Twinkle Diaries