I love being a stay at home mom.

I truly love being a stay at home mom (SAHM for the internet uninformed. But if you're here, chances are you don't need my acronym help.) But I do. I truly, truly, truly love being a SAHM.

I love being with Bubba all day. (Mostly love. Sometimes try not to jump off a cliff. Always ignore the fact that whining is the most annoying sound in the world. Fact. ) We do all kinds of fun things. Some more fun for one of us (shopping) than the other (I'm sorry. I just can't love playing with trains. I try. It's just not there for me). But we have fun. We giggle. We laugh. We chase the dog.

Bubba knows all of his letters (I'd love to take credit. I'm pretty sure he learned while watching Leap Frog.) Can count to 20. (1, 2, 3, 4...14, 15, 16, thirty-teen, 18, 16, TWENTY! counts, right?) Knows his colors and shapes (that was all me!) and is starting to write.

I keep the house (mostly) clean. (Ok, it's cleaner than it was when I was "working".) We eat nice home cooked meals (except when I just :need: takeout). All in all, it's a pretty good deal for all of us. The Husband Guy prefers it. Bubba prefers it. The dog prefers it. The cats are indifferent.

And I, sure as hell, prefer it.
But let's discuss a dirty little secret.
I like it because I really, really, really hate working.

Whenever I talk to my mother about what I should be doing with my life (despite my current happiness, I feel like I should want more. We'll discuss this later), she says, "Well, what did you like to do when you were younger? What games did you play?" Um. House? Seriously. Every game I played as a child was house or a variation. Even mud pies. I baked killer mud pies. I built forts with kitchens and nurseries. I was born to be a SAHM.

People would ask, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" and I'd answer. "A writer. A lawyer. A teacher. A software engineer who writes educational programs. An ad exec." And even as I said those words, I knew I was only saying what people wanted to hear. I wanted to be a wife and mother. I want to be a wife and mother. I love my "job". It makes me happy.

And guilty. So guilty.
I feel like I should want more.
In some ways I'm glad I don't have a daughter. I don't have to be a powerful female role model.

You know what? Scratch that. I AM a powerful female role model.
The point of equality and the woman's movement was to provide us with a choice. I choose to be a wife and mother as my job. I don't have to do it. I am under no obligation. I had a career. A very successful one at that. But I didn't love it. I didn't even like it most of the time. Every moment, of every day, for as long as I can remember was dedicated to finding a mate with whom I could have children. And a house. And a dog. (Dog is rapidly becoming optional. Especially if the poopfest continues. A story for another day.) Does that sound sad? Probably to some. But if I had dedicated myself to being a doctor, lawyer, CEO, nobody would bat an eye. Why should this be different?

I just love my life. Especially the part about being able to stay up till 11, with my niece, watching bad TV and eating buttered popcorn. And blogging. And when I wake up, I can spend an hour rubbing sleep from my eyes, drinking coffee in my jammies, and playing with puzzles. Or watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Why lie? There will be MMC while the coffee kicks in.

I'm sure someone out there is screaming that I'm a horrible person. A terrible mother. Giving SAHMs a bad name. Blah, blah, blah, blah, biddy, blah. Look, I'm just telling the truth. It's nice to be able to control my day. It's nice to be able to sit in my jammies till noon if I want. It's nice that most days, my biggest decision is which playground we should go to.

It's as nice as working mom's who say they can't do without their "adult interaction". Or feel they need to use their college degree (I went to college for my Mrs. I graduated with a BS and no Mrs...) Or like the opportunity to listen to Howard Stern on the radio without protecting little ears.

My point is there is nothing (there should be nothing) wrong with wanting to be, enjoying, and being proud of being a SAHM.
It doesn't make me less successful.
Since it's all I ever wanted and I worked my tail off to get here, I'm biggest success I know.

And I couldn't be happier about it.
Pass the bon bons.