Lately I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about motherhood, SAHM-hood, and so on.
Today has not been an easy day with Mark, age 4. It occurred to me as I did my rounds through our main floor yet again — possibly the fortieth time this afternoon (another way of saying “going nowhere, fast”) — that many, many days of SAHM-hood are like running a series of marathons, one right after another. I call this the SAHM Series of Marathons.
In the SAHM Series of Marathons, in general, there is no one is there to cheer me on, pick me up when I fall, step in for me when I’m whipped, tell me I did a good job, or assure that tomorrow might, just might, be a little easier than today.
The hardest things about being a participant in the SAHM Series of Marathons are:
1 – Once you’re signed up, you are committed for years and years at a time, with few breaks.
2 – Many people, sometimes your own spouse/partner, aren’t even aware that you have run five marathons per week for the last (fill in number here) years.