You Don’t Work, Right?
That’s right. I’m a stay-at-home mom, so I don’t work. Today I took care of my virus-addled baby, had friends over to play, changed half a dozen poopy diapers (some of which were diarrhea), got puked on, was smeared with snot from shoulders down, spent quality time with my 3yo who told me the other day I didn’t love him, listened to twenty minutes of infant hollering, bent back a fingernail cleaning the kitchen, sang eleven songs from Dog Train, and made lunch for five. I am woman; hear me roar.