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Mompiphany #45: The Mommy End-Of-Year Review (And Raise)

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Money

My husband recently received a promotion at work. While I could not be more proud of him, I realized that, at jobs around the world, dutiful employees are gearing up for end-of-year reviews, celebrating promotions, and looking forward to the bounty of bonuses and raises. So I started thinking: It is a crop of bull@#$% that stay-at-home moms don’t get reviews, promotions or raises. Like seriously…. everyone I know agrees with me when I angrily state that being a stay-at-home mom is the hardest job ever and while we do get paid in love, hugs and projectile vomit, we are not exactly making the Fortune 500 bucks when you work at a job where you do not get compensated with actual money. So, I told my husband that I plan to put some time on his calendar to go over my job performance and talk about a promotion and wage increase (and I am not kidding in the least).

I have graded myself on a few things: Are all of the kids accounted for? Is the house somewhat intact? Does everyone at least have clean underwear (if nothing else) to wear? Are the meals edible? On all of my job responsibilities I feel that I have exceeded expectations and in some cases have gone above and beyond the scope of my job. I mean really…. just because I am a stay-at-home mom does that really mean I need to be the one to stay-at-home for Every.Single.Solitary repairman that comes?

And, since I started this gig, I have not taken a true vacation. And, even though Tuesday is my self-appointed “day off,” inevitably someone’s bottom needs to be wiped, someone’s lunch needs to be made, and someone’s homework has been left on the counter requiring me to bring it to them at school. I have assumed my role as a stay-at-home with a fair amount of grace and a slight amount of red-in-the-face screaming, but through it all, I have never given up, looked for a new job or thought about adding a very strong laxative in my boss’s dinner when he suggests that I am being a little too hard on the kids when I tell them to put their dirty clothes IN their hampers.

So, yes, my husband received a promotion, but I think we all know that if I did not do my job, there is no way that he could successfully do his.

And, regardless of what my husband grades me, I know that I am doing the best that I can so I hereby give myself a promotion, a bonus and a raise.

Here’s to upward mobility!

Mompiphany #27: Don’t Like It? Don’t Eat It.

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A dinner table with wooden chairs in a living ...

This is what I say at the I start of every single meal with my kids. With three very distinct taste buds under one roof finding meals that everyone likes and are quasi-healthy is almost impossible. I know I sound like most moms when I say that it is beyond frustrating when you spend time (be it 5 minutes or 55 minutes) cooking only to have a few pint-sized food critics turn up their noses at what you’ve prepared and request nuggets.

The food battle in my house is exacerbated by my husband. When he is home, he walks into the pantry, grabs a snack, and feeds them to the kids who are trained like Pavlov’s dogs. My kids have gone as far as to run down the driveway while my husband is pulling his car out just to ask for snacks (even when I am standing in the kitchen) because they know that daddy will say yes to anything and that mommy offers up fruit as a suitable snack.

Snacks aside, long ago I decided that I would not cook for the kids because they are so fickle. Even if I cook something that I know that they like, there is still no guarantee that they will eat it. So now I cook for me and my husband, and if the kids happen to want to eat it, that’s a bonus. I menu plan each week, and I do ask for their input (and it is not like I am cooking chitlins and beets) but if they don’t like what I cook, they don’t have to eat it. They can help themselves to a fruit or vegetable. This approach to dealing with my pint-sized food critics has been beyond liberating. If I had a bra that was decent enough to show in public, I would probably burn it in a public display of freedom in front of Harris Teeter.

My kids are well fed and healthy without me catering to their picky-ness. Well-balanced meals are a luxury that not all kids can afford and having confirmed with my pediatrician, I know that kids can go several days without eating before suffering any major ailments so I don’t feel the least bit guilty if the kids are not feeling the whole wheat pasta bake that I made.

So, on the menu tonight: slow cooker bbq chicken on whole wheat hamburger buns, homemade baked fries, and steamed broccoli. No likey? No problem – don’t eat it. That leaves more for me. I feel as free as a bird I tell you.  How do you deal with the picky eaters at your house?