When I Get Upset

As a rule, I do not get that upset at what I do in a day. No. What really upsets me is what I don't do in a day.

Sins of omission:  Any sane person would think I have it backwards and that the things I don't get done shouldn't bother me. Well that sounds nice until visitors come by. For me, as a mom, the things that don't get done in a day lend themselves to unsanitary conditions, fire hazards, stupidity, chronic misbehavior, and insanity. You'll forgive me if I seem upset with myself at the end of the day when the house is still a mess, and people are hungry and freaking out because I took a day to relax; a day I will be paying for for the next week or so.

No! Not one more "emergency" until I finish this blog!

Sins of undervalue: Society expects me to define myself and my worth by  a career outside of the home, and makes no secret of its disdain for my decision to stay home with my children. That wouldn't be so bad either if the doctrine had not been drilled into my brains and emotions all my life by a liberal school environment and popular media. Thirty-odd years of consistent secular indoctrination and reinforcement can not be shrugged off at will.

According to the above theories I am expected to be a career woman at the same time as a child care expert, nurse, cook, hairdresser and fashion consultant, teacher, housekeeper, therapist, referee and coach, administrator, and lover, among every other duty motherhood and married life entails.

I just want a day or two to myself to get the house clean. Is that so much to ask?