Why SAHMs are an easy target

Read this article real quick about an angry mom who was denied a Target credit card (seriously, it’s a quick, easy read) and we’ll start from the same vantage point.

Let me start by saying that I am a (mostly) stay-at-home mom. I work about 6.5 hours/week outside of the home and maybe 2 hours/week from my couch. I do this for many reasons, none of which have anything to do with this post, but I enjoy my job and am thankful for it.

That being said…

SAHMs need to GET OVER IT. We all know that the work we do within our home (or at the park or while homeschooling or while nursing your child until grade school) is extremely important. We all know that we are often labeled many things that are untrue by choosing to stay home. We all know that we are not paid financially by doing so (though I won’t go into all the flexibility, extra time with kids, etc. we get by doing so).

DEAL. WITH. IT. Or change your status.

I have steamed over the women in this article for an inappropriate amount of time since reading it yesterday afternoon. I was seriously so irritated that so many smart women would not be able to understand that  ”Just because I don’t get a direct paycheck for [my work], doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile work that I’m doing” has nothing, I repeat NOTHING, to do with getting approved for a credit card.

Let’s take a minute and step back, quickly, for a little lesson in corporate finance: If I lend you money, it’s because I expect you to be able to pay it back. Let me repeat that:  It’s because I expect you to be able to pay it back. Now, if you don’t make any money, I will likely not lend you money because you won’t be able to pay it back. Makes sense, yes?

It doesn’t matter if you are homeless or the best SAHM who has ever walked the planet. Your self-worth adds nothing to the equation or my decision to grant you credit. In both cases, you don’t make any money and therefore have no ability, on your own, to repay a loan (which is effectively what a credit card is).

I understand the need to feel like your job is important, worthwhile, and seriously valued. But that isn’t the purpose of a credit card. And a credit card company should not lend you money if you don’t have an income.

“It’s about fair and equal access to credit,” you say? You’re right! You couldn’t be any more correct! Access to credit is dependent upon your ability to REPAY. I go back to the previous two scenarios: a homeless person and a SAHM, both with equal income of $0, will get fair and equal access to credit. It has NOTHING to do with who you are. As it shouldn’t.

As women, we need to fight for things that matter. We don’t need to join the mommy wars of working vs. nonworking, breast vs. bottle, co-sleeping vs. no co-sleeping, let the list go on. We need to be smart, fully capable women who can manage our family’s finances as well as the 14 kids running through the yard. We need to understand that our emotions, which women are so well known for, play no role in whether or not we should be approved for a credit card.

Because that’s what is happening: at some point, we’ve felt demeaned, under-appreciated, laughed at by the media who can so quickly turn us on each other. And we’ve run the wrong way with the emotions that those things bring. We fight against credit card companies for being denied a Target credit card because our SAHM job is “worth” something? I mean, really? Have you read THIS blog post?

Have your husband co-sign the damn application and move on. Or get a job. It’s that easy.

My heart is full.

I woke up this morning just wanting to go to the park with friends and be in community. Except that no one else could/wanted to do the same.

So instead, Lucas and I packed up the car with everything I was borrowing from friends that needed returned – a book, dresses, baby boy clothes from two different people. Not quite what I had in mind.

But when we got home, we arrived to an amazingly beautiful, late-morning sun. So we pulled some weeds in the front and headed out back, planning to play in the yard. Instead, we picked strawberries from the garden, sat on a bench and proceeded to eat every. single. one. together.

It was so peaceful. And good. The strawberries were sweet. The boy was loving it. The moment was good.

As Lucas ran around digging in various parts of the yard in the moments after, I picked more strawberries and went inside to make lunch. And that’s when I realized it: My heart is full.

I spent a wonderful evening at last night’s Pacers’ game (thanks to the Pacers and the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra!) with amazing friends, where I got to hold a week-old baby girl for the entire fourth quarter. I have three beautiful kids and a yard for them to run in. I have a healthy family. I am married to a crazy man, who also loves to garden, even though he doesn’t much like most of what we grow. I have friends who love to be in community, on short notice, late in the afternoon.

Some days stink. But some days are just as sweet as those home-grown strawberries eaten right out of the garden. Those are the days I need to cherish. The ones I need to stop and enjoy rather than fold another loud of laundry. The ones that fill my heart like today.

Wordless Wednesday

Because, really, you know exactly what {may have} happened at noon kindergarten pick-up. 12 minutes & 13 blocks, round-trip. I’m not disclosing anything else.

 

This thing called marriage.

This thing called love marriage. It tough, yo.

You go through the honeymoon stage, the adjusting to married life stage, the adjusted good stage, the seven-year itch stage (which is really a good 2 years, the year leading up to 7 years and the 7th year) and the things are good again stage.

Then you hit the what the hell is going to happen next stage.

I’d describe this stage as one day it’s great, one day it sucks, one day it’s fine, one day it’s all of everything combined into one. And when you think you’re moving into a really good stage (you know, like when you’ve had 2 good days in a row), BAM! Gardening happens.

You’d think being married for nearly 12 years, and gardening for the majority of that time, would make Spring easier. But I nearly left the house about 5 minutes ago because of a darn labeling disagreement on our transplants I worked on the last 2 days during what Lucas likes to call a nap. (*I* call it a “quick little get Mommy excited that I might take a nap” piece of crap nap.)

Adam and I think very differently. Surprisingly, since we’re both analytically minded. (He’s a CPA and I’m a finance gal.) But he’s very black-and-white, reads exactly what’s written, says things without regard for the tone of his voice. Me? Um, I’m 50 shades of gray, very rarely not reading into everything, and I think tone says more than words.

So when I didn’t label the plants the way he understood and thought they should be labeled, it hit the fan. Because he didn’t like the way I did it, and I couldn’t understand why he just couldn’t let it be. It was so lame, really, looking back, but during the “argument” I couldn’t figure out how the hell we’ve stayed married this long. And how we’re supposed to be married the rest of our lives.

But that’s the thing about marriage. It’s for the rest of our lives. Crap and all. And while some days suck and some days are great and some days I don’t know what the hell is going to happen, I committed my life to Adam.

And I’m glad I did. While we may not agree on TONS of things and have completely different opinions on nearly everything, the man loves me. That I know. And *that* I’ll hold on to.

linking up with Just Write.

On being content…

I’ve realized that I’m not content with my life.

You already saw this in me? It was that obvious?

Apparently, because as I look back over the last few weeks, it is glaringly obvious to me. In retrospect. 

I’m good at seeing things in others – I’m perceptive, a good listener, offering up solutions to problems. This has pretty much been the sum of my adult life. Actually, you could probably say my *whole* life.

I don’t think any of those things are bad. I’m a compassionate person and really do love helping others. Here’s the thing: I do this without seeing similar symptoms in my own life.

I complain about marriage issues, parenting issues, work issues, on-and-on-and-on issues, without stepping back and seeing the root of the problem. Without listening to others when they speak into my life. Praying, without listening to GOD for the answer. I’m quick to “fix” the problem, but not to find a life-changing solution. Or to simply be content with the stage of life that I am in.

So here I am, asking for accountability from my community. Asking for God to help me listen for His response and for discernment in knowing if it’s really His response or the one I want it to be. Asking myself to take ownership of the issue, to see the root problem, to ask and listen for a solution. Most importantly, asking myself to be content with who and what I have.

It’s time to make a change. As Michael Jackson would say:

“I’m Gonna Make A Change,
For Once In My Life
It’s Gonna Feel Real Good,
Gonna Make A Difference
Gonna Make It Right . . .

You Got To . . .
Stand Up! Stand Up!
Stand Up!
Stand Up And Lift
Yourself, Now!”

(Yes, you’re going to be singing that song all day now. You’re welcome.)

Join me.

Sqwincher Qwik Stiks ~ Product Review

So I hate Gatorade. I honestly feel like I’m going to vomit every time I drink it.

Oh yeah, especially that one time while running the Mini-Marathon 5 years ago. I was so tuned in to making sure I was staying hydrated, I thought I should try to drink Gatorade at one of the pit stops. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong! I took the first sip and dumped the rest. And the taste stayed in my mouth for WAY too long. (It also made me get a beer at an unofficial pit stop, which was maybe even a dumber move.)

Anyways, my family loves the stuff. Which drives me batty, not just because I don’t like it, but because of the amount of sugar in the stuff.

So when I was offered the chance to try Sqwincher Qwik Stiks (Lite Lemonade flavor) as an alternate electrolyte replacement and rehydration drink, I was happy to help. (So not related, have you ever played that game? Happy to Help? It’s not that great, but we love the saying now!)

It’s super easy to make – just mix one packet into 20 oz. of water. It definitely tastes better than Gatorade. I drank my whole glass. I don’t love that the Lite version is artificially sweetened – you can taste it just a bit – but I do love that there is no sugar and no calories. And since I can’t have it both ways, I really can’t complain too much.

As for my family, my husband has committed to taking this drink with him to his adventure races even. Which is great, because I worry about him staying hydrated during these races (some are up to 24 hours long!) and he normally only takes water.

While we don’t buy these types of drinks very often, I would opt for the Sqwincher Qwik Stiks over the national brands any day. It’s also convenient in the little powder packs so that you can just pack water and the stiks and save some room in the backpack by not bringing bottles of water and Gatorade.

DISCLOSURE: I received a package of Qwik Stiks to aid in this product review, though the opinions? Those are all mine.

Can’t shake this feeling.

I’m not really sure what it is. I mean, yes, actually I do, but it’s such a weird emotion that I’m honestly not sure what to do with it.

I had finally decided that I wanted another baby. I couldn’t imagine closing that chapter of my life without ever holding a brand new baby in my arms. Or wearing a newby or breastfeeding or seeing a smile for the first time. I just couldn’t imagine that.

But as the months have gone by, and I haven’t gotten pregnant, something inside of me, us, is starting to wonder if we really want another child. Adam asked me about a month ago if I still really wanted a baby, and I couldn’t answer yes. Oh, I could answer yes to another baby, but not to another *child* (because you know there’s a difference).

Lucas hasn’t been sleeping well – he’s ended up sleeping with us every 2-3 nights, then 1 night in his bed, then again for 2-3 nights. He’s waking up in the middle of the night and will NOT go back to sleep in his room. So he ends up with us, because I’m too tired to mess with it. I feel bad for him because the first round of this not sleeping pattern started 2 months ago when he started getting all 4 molars. This round has started because he’s getting all 4 eye teeth.

That? Is wreaking havoc on me. It’s one thing when they’re infants and they’re supposed to be up and you expect to not sleep. It’s another when they’re 17 months and you already know what kind of sleeping they’re capable of.

I digress.

The point of that is that it’s making me think I’m not able to do this whole have another baby thing. I’m starting to feel older. I know, I’m only 34, but man, I am feeling tired. And not just “sleep” tired. Like I just don’t have enough energy to do this WHOLE thing over. Again. For the fourth time.

Yesterday, I was ready to close this baby-making chapter. Tonight, as I rocked Lucas for a few minutes before bed, I felt like I was mourning never having that exact moment with another child. It was such a strong feeling, that I felt like crying.

And then I started questioning myself.

If I felt that strongly, that I might cry because of this mourning, that maybe I was mourning it so much because I truly am not ready to let this go. To close that chapter.

So here I am, basically back at the same place I was nearly 4 months ago. Sitting in uncertainty. Waiting. Hoping to make the right decision for our family. Not knowing what that answer is. Praying God will make it apparent to me & Adam.

Soon.