It's raining, it's pouring....

Instead of looking for the perfect wicker snack basket, I am now looking for an ark. Preferably used, with low mileage, and able to house no more than my family of 5 and 2 dogs. I have had enough of my neighbors and I would like to gracefully say "No, I'm sorry, no more room!" with a big grin and a straight face.

No, seriously, it has rained for three straight days, with no visible end in sight. "Well, I won't have to water the grass for at least two weeks!" the Pollyannas say. Well screw you, Polly, I'm stuck here with three obnoxious adorable children, and I've had enough. I'm beginning to invent tasks (like knitting something) in order to avoid the obvious ones that are staring at me, like laundry and actual housework.

I have, however, surfed blog after blog, which I highly recommend - just pick a link and wander, it's amazing what you'll find. I've found crafts I wished I had made, people on the verge of getting an adoption referral, old friends that I thought I had lost, and things I didn't know I wanted and now will be mercilessly trolling eBay for. (Seriously, I need that pie carrier. Imagine the envy of the other t-ball moms!)

Now to surf to find the way that the old man actually slept well enough during a thunderstorm to snore - anyone have a good link for an overnight nanny service?

Let the games begin...

While driving somewhere yesterday, we see a girl on a motorcycle with a long braid - F points it out to me.

F: "Mom, look, there's a girl on that motorcycle!"

Mom, sensing a parenting moment that shouldn't be missed: "Yes, F, girls can do anything. That's a really cool motorcycle, isn't it."

F, smirk on his face: "Mom, girls are pretty."

So much for the parenting moment - let the dating begin.

So.

So.

Things have been a little crazy over here - the end of school, the beginning of summer camp, the end of t-ball, the beginning of swimming lessons - we're pretty much in a merry-go-round of activity over here, and I want to get off. Now. Because, well, summer is for relaxing, I hear, and all I keep doing is getting in the car. And packing tote bags. And getting out again. Someone less organizationally-challenged than I will tell you that I should have a tote bag for each activity so that I can skip the packing step, but that is also likely the mother that has the wicker snack tray for t-ball (no, seriously, she does) and I can't stand her. So I pack the bag each time we go. It kills the time between "Get your shoes on" and "Get. Your. Shoes. On. Before. I. Call. Your. Father. To. Scream. Even. Louder. BecauseHeWill."

So I haven't had a lot of mom time this summer, yet, but I did have enough time to read this and wow, are mommas everywhere ticked off. As a working mom myself, I get some of what she's saying, but I'm not so sure why she's surprised that the stay at home moms are angry with her - they give me crap, and I live next door. How much easier is it to send a nasty-gram email to someone you've never met?

I work for a lot of reasons, and while the money is nice, it is mainly for my sanity. And my children's sanity. Because although I am not many of the things Linda professes that working moms are, I do have a need to see people I'm not related to on a regular basis, and to have the house quiet for a few minutes. And I will do almost anything to get those things for myself. I've even bought a GameCube to ensure my 10 minutes of quiet at the end of the day. There, my dirty secret is out.

But what I don't get, honestly, is why some of the stay-at-home moms think that all working moms don't value that work that a stay-at-home mom does. Dude, I get it. I know that work is often easier, if less fulfilling. But I can't do it and be content with myself. And it's not an intellectual thing, it's a sanity thing, pure and simple. And I'm tired of the moms who choose to stay home making me feel bad about protecting my mental health while bringing in some fun money at the same time.

It's not a competition, so why do we have to continuously try to outdo each other? Put down the wicker snack basket. You're making us feel bad, and does it really make you feel that much better?