I'm completely stealing this...

This is totally ripped off from a newspaper column. It was written by Carolyn Hax of The Washington Post and is called "Tell Me About It", so I cited my so, don't call the plagiarism police on me.

by the way it has taken me three different 10 min occasions to get this typed up, because I was being distracted by my helper ;-)

WHY DON'T FRIENDS WITH KIDS HAVE TIME?

Dear Carolyn: Best friend has child. Her: exhausted, busy not time for self, not time for me, etc. Me (no kids): What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group... OK, I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no list of library, grocery store, dry cleaners...I do all those things, too. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events). I manage to get all it done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy, but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child free folks have the same questions.
-Tacoma, Washington

Dear Tacoma: Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.

Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that they only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.

So, because it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, cleaned, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one (or more) kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest of trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from un-shelving books at the library; to enforcing rest time, to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any of which produces checkout-line screaming

It's needing 45 mins to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing this while con-currently teaching virtually everything-language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice (to stay-at-home), yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, everyday, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 mins to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.