This is an open letter to Kohl’s…

Dear Kohl’s,

Please cease and desist with the Kohl’s Cash.  Now.  I can’t take it anymore.  Kohl’s Cash redemption days are literally the only thing on my calendar (well – besides my upcoming lunch lady duties).  Just the fact that I have to put a reminder on my calendar so that I don’t accidentally miss using my Kohl’s cash tells you how knee-deep I am here.

You’re very stealthy, Kohl’s.  But I can see right through you.  I know those innocuous $10-off-any-purchase-over-$10 coupons are all part of your psychological warfare.  I frequently find myself driving to one of your many conveniently-located stores in my area, saying to myself, “You can do it this time.  You can JUST spend $10 and come away with something that’s basically free!”  But that never happens, does it?  Oooooh nooooo!  $183 dollars later and look-y here, I’ve actually saved $298!!!  And yes, that’s $183 AFTER the $10 off coupon combined with a 30% off coupon that I got in the mail last week.

Wait!  What?!  I just wanted to spend $10!!!  But now I’m $183 in the hole and I need to come back again in 2 weeks to use the Kohl’s Cash ($30 bucks worth, ya effers) I never wanted to “earn” in the first place.

Stop it.  Just stop.  I’m looking for things to do, Kohl’s.  But as my grandmother used to say, “going to the poor house saving money” isn’t one of them.  Stop already!  I mean it.  I’m serious this time.  I’m gonna use that final $30 in Kohl’s Cash (and not a cent more!!!) and then I’m done with you.  We’re through.  C’est fini!  Kaput!  Do you hear me?!?

Now I’ve got to go get the mail.  I gotta see what sort of coupons came today…

I went to a committee meeting slash dinner last night (well, actually no meeting, all dinner.  And drinks.) and sat at a table with mostly stay at home moms who were very curious to hear how it’s going with me.  They’ve all heard through the school grapevine that I’ve joined their ranks (see blog Day 3 for an explanation of how the school grapevine works – https://newstayathomemom.com/?p=17) and they wanted to know how I like it.

Duh – Love it!

And then, looking to fit in and show how I was “one” with them, that we were “simpatico,” that they are my “peeps” (what’up, what’up home mom!)  I regaled them with a story about how I had a mutual acquaintance over for homemade cake and cup of coffee that afternoon.  To which they were all “wait, wait, wait.  SHE brought cake?”

Me: “No, I made cake.”

Them: “Huh?  You made cake? And served it with coffee to a friend at your house?!”  And they’re all looking from one to the other and shrugging their shoulders.  Next, I expected they would try to poke each other in the eyes while saying nyuck nyuck nyuck like some stay at home mom version of the three stooges.

Me: “Helloooo. I mean come on!  Isn’t that what we do?!  Isn’t this what you’ve all been doing since your first child went to school?  Having each other over for cake and coffee and leaving the working moms out?” [I was a little more jokey sounding and less angry and desperate than it’s coming across here.  I think.]

…….

Honestly, doesn’t anyone else remember their mother having women friends over for cake and coffee in the afternoon?  It’s what they did, right?  My mom did it so well that she even had little fancy containers (matching, white with bumps all over them like those old popcorn-y bedspreads) for the cream and sugar.  But I thought I was modernizing the whole affair by not having any containers.  My guest just helped herself to the sugar directly from the sugar jar and milk out of the carton.

[as a side note, coffee is WAY easier to make nowadays than I remember it was back then.  It took like 20 hours and you had to assemble metal items and maybe even a spring or two then balance it all on some sort of stick within the coffee pot.  Then the coffee had to bubble up through this little glass spout at the top.  I believe that was called “percolating” but it seemed really confusing and time-consuming and you had to prepare it long before people even walked in the door]

And here we’ve come to the crux of the problem (no, not that coffee can now be made on-the-fly.  Or that I don’t have fancy cream and sugar containers, ’cause I do.  I just didn’t use them).  Rather, maybe I’m operating under some 1970’s version of what I should be doing??

Good Lord!  Where’s the pamphlet from the OB/GYN’s office when you need it?!?  It’s hard to get this right!

My days roar with silence (I’ve gotta start playing some music during the day.  In fact, more 80’s music oughta do the trick.  80’s songs will always cure what ails ya!  Plus they make you 16 again with awesome hair and cute clothes.); So much silence in fact that I’ve begun to consider the chats I have with the kids during the car ride home from school to be the highlight of the day.  These little humans are truly scintillating conversationalists!

To prove the point, I present to you The Conversation From The Car Ride Home Today:

SON: (pointing to the ripped dude riding his bike without a shirt on.  Hey!  It’s Colorado!!  There’s lots of topless bike riding going on.  Not by me, to be clear.  But it’s hot and sunny – kills two birds with one stone – so I can totally understand the thought process.)  “Wow!  Look at that guy’s six pack!”

ME:  “Six pack?  Did you just say six pack?  How do you know what a six pack is?  What is a six pack??”

SON: “It’s those bumps that you get on your stomach.”

ME: [in my head] Hey!  I’ve got bumps on my stomach.  Maybe I also have a six pack and didn’t know it.

DAUGHTER:  “Daddy doesn’t have a six pack.  He just has a belly…that’s kindof round.”

ME: [in my head] And so does Mommy, so we’re even.  Evenly matched.  A match made in Heaven!  Wuv, twew wuv.

SON: “The hulk also has a six pack…but his is more like a thirteen pack.”

DAUGHTER: “No, he wouldn’t have a thirteen pack because that wouldn’t be even.  That would look weird.  It’s probably either a twelve pack or just a really big six pack.”

ME: [in my head] Excellent point, Daughter.  I wonder if the Hulk’s wife (Mrs. Hulk?) also has a twelve pack?  But how would we know because she probably wears a blouse and skirt instead of those weird pants that are all shredded at the bottom.  Gween wuv twew wuv!

At which point the conversation droned on and on about other superheros with various packs vs. actual humans with no packs and I was forced to turn on the radio.   As luck would have it, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun was on.

ME: [in my head] Why yes, yes we do!  And doesn’t my hair look great? It really shows off this cute outfit.

I met a friend last week for coffee.  She’s a stay at home mom who used to be (still is – duh) a Child Psychologist.  I mean, come on!  This woman has her PhD!!!  So I thought for sure she knows what to do with her time while the kids are in school.

I asked her to give me some suggestions for what I should be doing during the day.  Specifically, I asked her what she had done the day before.  Her reply was, “you know all those shopping bags you keep but never use?  Well I organized them and then put them back under the sink in the laundry room.”

Ta da!!!  Like magic our day is done. And we can account for our time by all of the small accomplishments trailing behind us.

When I arrived home later that day, I found she had texted me with the following:

How to fill your day idea number 97: get a puppy!

To which I replied:

Oooh, yes!  Excellent suggestion.  And here’s idea number 98: get a massive hole in my head.  I need that about as much as I need a new puppy!!!

But I have started researching new puppies.

There’s a formula!  Why didn’t anyone tell me there was a formula?!   Instead, you were all like “Noooooo…don’t tell the new chick about the formula!  She’s all ‘smart’ and ‘observant’ she’ll figure it out on her own.  Eventually.”

Well, I’m on to you.  I have totally figured it out.  So screw you!  And just to show you who’s boss, I’m gonna tell the world.  Hey, World!  Here it is!!  Here is the stay at home mom what-happens-with-your-time formula (or for-mew-ler as my mother and Plankton from SpongeBob SquarePants would say):

fx: [insert time period here], I was going to (fill in the blank) but instead  (fill in the blank) and as a result (fill in the blank) .  NOTE TO SELF:(fill in the blank)     

Using this morning as an example, the for-mew-ler might read something like this:

This morning, I was going to go for a nice, long run and therefore avoid the cleaning ladies so I was dressed in my stankest running gear but instead my daughter “petted” a drowsy bee while she was waiting for a.m. carpool and Surprise!  She ended up getting stung and as a result while I was performing triage on her pinky at the kitchen sink with a copper penny and some baking soda, the carpool left and I had to drive her to school myself.  At which point I was conned into joining some other moms for coffee.  They were all dressed to the nines because they were going to mass after coffee.  And then to lunch at a new place they’ve been wanting to try.  Did I mention the stankity stank stankness of my running gear?  NOTE TO SELF: do not EVER join people for coffee when you look and feel (and clearly smell) like an a$$! 

You see it, right?  You totally see what I’m talking about, right?!  I’m absolutely on to something and to prove the point, I’ll use the for-mew-ler on yesterday as well…

Yesterday, I was going to clean the entire house and finally be done with the cleaning ladies and all of the guilt they engender but instead aliens abducted me  during my key housecleaning hours (from 9 to 2) and when I became aware of time again, I was so sleepy I had to “rest my eyes” for a bit and as a result I was late picking up afternoon carpool despite my mad dash through town.  And I had a bad case of bedhead which I don’t think I covered up very well even though I employed some excellent and creative finger-combing.  NOTE TO SELF: keep a baseball cap in the car.

Ok, now it’s your turn.  You try it.

Here’s the recent email I received from my mother after I asked for her feedback on this blog:

Blog is really funny. (I’m charging for references to and advice from your mother!) Always nice to have an avocation but I still think you should be looking for a “real” job. LOL Mom

There are a couple of things I should explain here…the first of which is that despite repeated reminders, my mom still thinks LOL means Lots-of-Love (Mom, really – it means Laughing-out-Loud).

The second is that I should tell you my mother was an English major in college and is therefore special in that not all moms routinely use words like “avocation” in their emails.

Given that, you now might be saying to yourself, “well, MY mother wasn’t an English major, so what does avocation even mean?!” Webster’s Dictionary defines it as an activity engaged in for enjoyment, in addition to one’s regular work or profession i.e. a hobby.

There ya have it, Folks. My mom’s roundabout way of saying:  Gee, Hon…the blog is fun for a lark, but don’t quit your day job!

And while they TOOK my day job (I didn’t give it up willingly i.e. quit), you get the idea; don’t quit LOOKING for your day job.

Ack! This loving advice (for some strange reason) reminds me of a(nother?) cringe-worthy experience I had with my mom during an ill-fated clothes shopping trip to Fashion Bug in the early 80’s during which she commented that she didn’t think they made parachute pants in “big girl” sizes. Ack! See what I mean?! YOU’RE totally cringing now too!!

I’ve just been firmly put in my place. BY MY OWN MOTHER!!!

But maybe I’m reading too much into it? Maybe my reaction here is based on my own feelings of inadequacy as a stay at home mom (as a blogger? as a “sturdy” pre-pubescent??) and not really how the message was intended. In which case, two final possibilities present themselves: 1) with her comment about “charging” for references, perhaps she’s looking for her OWN day job? Or…….2)maybe she really was just laughing out loud.

Hi, Mom!

I saw a friend last week who – without knowing about my job take – mentioned that I looked so well-rested and refreshed.  She wanted to know my secret.

And then another friend – who did know about my job take and who wanted to see if I could get together for coffee one day this week – texted me yesterday and said that I looked skinny and wanted to know if I was spending my days working out (hardy har har – I guess that’s how we stay at homers josh around with each other).

But that brings us to a more pressing issue.  WTF?!?  Clearly I looked like a fat, frazzled mess when I was working full-time!!!  And here I thought I pulled it all off with panache!  Élan!!  Apparently not so much.  So now we’ve got to add delusional to the mix.  Fat, frazzled, delusional.

Here’s how the score now stands: Being a stay at home mom – 1.  Being a working mom – 0.

When you were in grade school, do you remember that sinking feeling you would always get at the end of a long weekend?  Despite your best efforts, knowing you had to go to school the next day always ruined the last few hours of your time off.

Well, some things never change.  Today’s youth still feels that way.

Case in point, last night we were sitting at the kitchen table coming down from the Labor Day Weekend high, and my 10-year-old daughter (an A student I might add) commented on how she didn’t want to go to school tomorrow.  In fact the exact words were, “I hate school.  It’s boring and you have to wake up early!   I wish I could trade places with you.”

Understanding that the “you” she meant actually included her father and didn’t really include me (or doesn’t include me right now that is but I’m looking for a job, so it will shortly include me again.  Hi, Unemployment Agency!) I was particularly curious to know what sort of glamorous picture she has painted of the work-a-day world.  So I asked, “what do you think we do at work all day?”

She replied, “type emails, do calls.”

[Why yes.  That’s exactly right!  How thrilling it all is when you put it that way!!]

“But wait, Honey….we wake up early too.  Does that ruin your ‘work is nothin’ but good times’ theory?!  And what about all the business  trips?”

“Yeah, Mom.  That too.  You fly on planes.”

Hmmm…back when I graduated from college, getting a job seemed so much harder.  That may have been because there were no computers and therefore no emails to type so you had to come up with other mad skilllzzz that proved your worth?!

Double major in college?  Check!  Acquired a master’s degree in 18 months while working full-time?  Check!  Managed a half dozen people and have years of progressive work experience with several promotions under your belt to prove it? Checkity check check!!

And – well – now that them there compewters are prevalent and portable, and my job has been taken away after 25 years in the working world, it still seems a bit harder than that, but maybe it’s not.  Maybe I’ve been focusing on all the wrong stuff?  Perhaps I just have to find a 10-year-old girl-who-doesn’t-want-to-go-back-to-school-after-a-long-week-end to interview me.  The significantly shortened version of my resume I would provide her with would look something like this:

NAME
Address
Phone Number
LinkedIn profile hyperlink symbol
Facebook Page hyperlink
Fancy Underlining
Stunning Summary of my hopes and desires (with frequently used keywords)
Work Experience:
1. Can type emails
2. Can “do” calls
3. Can fly on airplanes

Am I hired?!

Wooo hooo!  Long week-end!!  Kids only had a half-day of school so I didn’t need to come up with any faux errands to occupy my time.  I can save those for next week.

Jogging, talking to the neighbors, getting ready for kid pick-up and picking up  – that’s about all I had time for this a.m.

But this p.m. I started to think about this long week-end stretching out before me.  With this stay at home mom thing there’s lots and lots of time to think.  And to hear that roaring ocean-in-a-seashell sound.  Which I now think is actually coming from inside my head.

Labor Day Week-end.  This long week-end is in honor of those who labor.  Which isn’t me.  Anymore.

Did I build up enough labor “points” when I was laboring that they now somehow carry over to those years when I don’t labor?  Or is someone at the local pool on Monday gonna be able to tell just by looking at me that I’m a Labor Day fraud?!

Speaking of pools…did you ever have that friend growing up who had that pool?  Remember how her older brothers spoke so convincingly of the chemicals they added to the pool that would cause a red dot to appear and follow you around in the pool if you pee’d in it?  From ages 8 to 10 – while swimming – I would suddenly whip around to see if I could catch a glimpse of that red dot.  Never did see it.  But I guess now I’ve given myself away.

Yeah – I pee’d in the pool.  I totally admit it.  And when it was my turn to be the older kid, I spent a good portion of my pool time convincing little kids that there was a red dot that would follow you around…

And as a side note, if you wanna spark some interesting conversation sometime, take a poll of your half-drunk friends as to whether or not THEY pee in the pool.  Or the shower.  You’d be surprised.  But be warned, the topic is very polarizing.

All of this makes me wonder if there might be chemicals in the air that mix with the eau-de-guilt wafting off of me (while I’m celebrating Labor Day when I really shouldn’t be) which will eventually form some sort of karmic red dot which floats around behind me for all to see?  Labor Day celebration??  I’m not “entitled” to it, so I shouldn’t be there, doing that.

So if you see me in the pool on Labor Day and I’m being followed by a red dot…and another red dot…you’ll know why.

What follows is a deconstruction of a conversation I had with my 10-year-old daughter this a.m.  Please note that my responses were all in my head:

HER: Hey Mom, now that you’re a home mom…

[ME: Home Mom?  Is that like a Home Boy??  What’up, what’up?!?]

HER:  you could stay in your pajamas all day

[ME: I could but then what would carpool lady think of my lazy a$$ and how would I run all of my expensive errands?!]

HER: and watch t.v.

[ME: This WHOLE time while I’ve been trying to figure out what to do, watching t.v. never occurred to me.  Maybe because I worry that once I start, I won’t stop and I’ll discover a show that becomes “mine” (or more likely shows plural).  As in “Yeah, I watch those.  Those are my shows!  I love them!!”  Also, watching t.v. midday reminds me too much of what Mrs. J (our next-door neighbor when we were growing up) used to do.  My mom had 5 kids, Mrs. J. had 2.  My mom never watched t.v. – unless it was the Electric Company but I suspect that was more for my benefit than hers – but Mrs. J. watched what I mistakenly thought were called Soap Boppers.  They were kindof dark and filled with minimal scenery.  Everyone seemed to be in black and white and talking in a square, bare room.  Maybe everyone was just wearing black and white?  But I remember a lot of potted plants, and I don’t remember them being green so maybe the boppers were in black and white??  Or maybe they were in color but the t.v.’s were black and white???  Also, there was always lots of angst and unhappiness.  And they made me feel vaguely queasy for some reason.  Would the actors have been smoking in the boppers back in the 70’s?  Perhaps.  Maybe that’s why they made me feel queasy.  Who’s to say.]

HER: You could eat chips

[ME: Hmmm…have we now veared into a description of what YOU would do on a day off, Sweetie?]

HER: and drink coffee

[ME: Ok, maybe it was your idea of a good-time-during-a-day-off right up until the coffee thing, but I will give you that: I do drink a lot of coffee.  Originally it was a habit started back when you were a weaned infant, My Dear, but still up all night; when I had to go and put in a full day of work the next day, suddenly coffee became my best friend. Lots and lots of coffee.  Besties.  BFF’s.]

HER: and make laundry!

[ME: Wait!  MAKE laundry?  You think I MAKE laundry??  Do you picture me going up and rolling around in your bed in my sweaty workout clothes just so I’ll have some sheets to change?!  Beautiful Girl, it’s not I who makes all the laundry around here.  I do the laundry, but you got the wrong gal if you’re looking for the person who makes the laundry!]

ME: (out loud) Yeah – that sounds like fun.  I could do that.  If I weren’t so busy doing other things.