The Invisible Work of a Stay at Home Mom

“So… what did you even do all day?"

Raise your hand if you have been asked this question as a stay-at-home mother.

I am guilty.

Mess, does not equate inactivity.

A stay-at-home mom works many jobs throughout the day. She's a nurse, chauffeur, chef, teacher, playmate, housekeeper, laundry attendant, accountant, and babysitter all rolled into one.

There may be tears in your exhausted eyes as a SAHM and stains on your shirt, but you are staying awake, sometimes desperate to find companionship or to learn childrearing secrets or to hold a conversation more meaningful than “How do you like your jogging stroller?” or “Is your child sleeping through the night?” Maybe, like me, you are desperate to learn you are not alone.

It is isolating and lonely, painfully lonely. I mean, you are never physically alone. You share every meal and every moment with your little munchkin. Every trip to the bathroom becomes a full-on family potty party, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel alone. (There are days I find myself wandering the aisles of Stop and Shop, hoping someone will smile at my daughter. Hoping I can use that subtle interaction as a segue into a full-blown conversation.

Toys strewn about are actually a sign of kid's playtime. I am guilty of mistaking dirty dishes for inactivity. Dirty dishes in the sink are a sign of well-fed children. I am guilty of mistaking a messy entrance way, scattered with books and jackets, as inactivity. Our messy entrance way is a reminder that we have a place to call our own—one that welcomes us in day after day.

The problem with stay-at-home mothers is that they are often graded on the same scale as those that work outside the home.

Mothers who are working in the home are often graded on the same scale, yet their work isn't always tangible. There are no spreadsheets, no reports written, and often, the results are counter-intuitive to what one would think a successful day looks like.

I must remind myself that building character is often invisible. Words read from a story book can't be seen. The compassion, hugs, reassurance, warmth, and full bellies are lost under a veil of unfolded, yet clean clothes.

The problem with stay-at-home mothers is that they get measured by superficial standards.

We often mistake money, entrepreneurship, and status as the baseline for productivity. It's time we stop grading mothers on the cleanliness of their home and start valuing them for their selfless investment in others.

The most important things aren't things at all, for most things we do are often invisible. Minimalism is realigning my priorities to understand that raising respectable people is the most important legacy we can leave.

If you're like me, you're pretty tired of hearing people tell you how blessed or lucky you are, or how it’s all worth it. It really does nothing to help, period. It really only magnifies that mommy-guilt most of us experience. I know many people joke at our expense, minimizing the work we do or envying our ability to rock pj’s at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday. If you're like me, I know you smile and you laugh, maybe even point to their jealousy, but I also know it is fake—the smile, the laugh, everything. Inside it's possible you're seething. Inside you are angry at their blatant disregard for the work you do, for what their mothers probably did for them. Inside you are crying.

The mental load of motherhood is real, but my obsessive need to do something “more” outside of mothering can make it feel unbearable. I remind myself that parenting is a long game. But parenting isn’t the only game that interests me, so this is little consolation.

Everyone has to make decisions based on what works for their family and personal situation. I wish that women felt more comfortable talking about the silent undercurrent of pressure we feel, as mothers, to put ourselves last.