Having It All

I am feeling a little defeated today.  One week back at work and things at home are already starting to slide.  I can’t seem to get it together in both places at once.  I am starting to really resent the feminists who told me I could have it all.

When I was at home I still couldn’t figure out how to do everything I wanted to do.  I could just never seem to make a “real” dinner--the definition of “real” being not chicken nuggets, hot dogs, pizza or macaroni and cheese.  Still, I was on top of all school forms, the laundry got done (although not always folded in a timely manner), school lunches were made, the baby got fed and bathed, I even got fed and bathed most days.

Yesterday I got an email thanking me for my support for the older boys’ camp and telling me that because of it all the camp towels are sold out!  Except I haven’t turned my order form in yet.  Crap!

This morning I realized that I did get all of our family members to pledge Sam for his summer reading challenge, but that the form was due back yesterday and it’s still sitting on my kitchen counter.  Double crap!

I also realized this morning that when the baby leaked poop on my skirt yesterday I washed it and it was still in the washing machine.  Triple crap!

Now I know the boys will get over not having official camp towels and the school will accept a late summer reading form, and my skirt will be fine, but I hate that I fell down on the job.  And I hate that I got sold a bill of goods that staying home wasn’t a job, wasn’t good enough and that I had to do something else.  Somehow, even though my mom stayed home, it never occurred to me that I would or that I would want to.  I was supposed to work, it’s what a modern woman does. 

I have an amazing husband.  He does the grocery shopping and until I was home these last few months, the laundry as well.  We make it all work, but I want better than making it all work.  I want it to run smoothly.  I don’t want to remember at 8:00 at night when I haven’t had dinner and the baby is screaming from hunger that the school lunches aren’t made and Toby’s uniform for the next day’s Taekwondo class is not in his bag.

I need a wife.  Oh wait, that’s my job.