I've been seeing more on Instagram from the perspective of women who are stay-at-home moms. The abbreviation or acronym is SAHM, and it's beautiful. It doesn't quite fit me, though.
Why do we always want things to fit or be just right, or to be accepted? It reminds me of my study abroad in college. I lived in the Dominican Republic, in the Caribbean, for one school year (approximately eight months). During this time, I had book knowlege of Spanish. I chose the place because I wanted to be in a country where people looked like me. Error #1. It didn't matter that some were darker-skinned than I, with curlier or kinkier hair than mine, or that the half island shared space with French-Creole speaking Haitians next door. It didn't matter that I was an African American girl going to school in the South of the United States who decided to learn a language miles away from home. It didn't matter to them because they couldn't relate to it.
So, here I am, now some 20-plus years later, realizing that I don't relate to SAHM. I made my own acronym: SAHW. Stay At Home Wife. It's new to me, and it feels like a direct download from Holy Spirit. I chuckled to myself this morning while cleaning up the kitchen, because all the acronyms seem to stand for one thing but encompass so many.
First of all, stay-at-home moms are dope. If you know, you know. I can't completely relate, but I'm there. SAHMs are on a thousand every day, all day, with emotions to boot. Their minds are going a mile a minute - circling back and forth between husband (if that's the case), children, feeding them all, errands, WFH (working from home) or not; and then thoughts that spiral out of control into other areas they wish they could control but can't.
My mind is somewhat wired the same as a SAHW because my main focus is my husband, and then our oldest son, which is a gift in disguise of our blended family. Yep, when we married in April 2024, he officially came with a double dose. I have a 21-year-old son and an 18-year-old daughter. Deep breath. And since I'm home most of the day, so is the oldest. (Insert side eye.) Home from college, doing a gap year because he's starting his own business and looking for funding, partnerships, and all the things for cybersecurity.
Anywho, my real reason for blogging this morning is getting my ideas on paper - out of my head and into the world. Do It Afraid. I've been reading this classic from Joyce Meyer for a few weeks, and I'm constantly reminding myself that if you don't start, you won't see what you can do.
So, we dropped the oldest off at the airport last night, and I said (texted), "We are not coming inside. Make sure your area and all the areas you occupied or worked in are clean. Kitchen clean and counters wiped. Bed made and blankets folded, etc." He hearted the message and came out to the car. I repeated my text out loud, asking if I would have to go inside to inspect. He assured me that everything was taken care of.
Fast forward to us coming back home. There's a bowl on the table with crumbs in it, the magazine addressed to him on the dining room table with a used napkin and an empty sandwich Ziploc bag. The sink had the plate he had just eaten hot dogs from, with some ketchup stains, and the counters (which I'd seen before we left for Bible study) still had dried mustard, the bag tie from the hot dog buns, and two cups. I'm going to bed because I don't have the energy to think about whether what I said made sense, especially when you confirmed your understanding and assured me you'd completed the tasks.
This morning, I took my husband to work to keep the car because I have a networking meeting at 11. I came home and cleaned up my way. Maybe that's what wasn't clear: doing it my way. Ha! What does clean mean or look like? I took my time and put the dishes away that he did wash. Some got thrown right back into the sink, though, for a re-wash. I threw a fork into the recycling bin because it wasn't part of my set (Random. Where did it come from?), and wiped down the counters, getting behind the crockpot, Instant Pot, and air fryer. I wiped the refrigerator door handles and inside the fridge, threw away stuff that I knew neither he nor the hubs would finish eating, and cleaned the tops of the mustard, ketchup, and relish. Next was inside the microwave, around the toaster, and on that countertop. Finally, I swept the floor. And I prayed while doing it.
This is what I mean by "keep the house clean." I thanked God for being in position - as a wife, as a mother (blended and bonus). I thanked him for our home and the desire to take care of it. I asked God to show me how to appreciate what we have, and I asked him to show me how to communicate well with my son and my husband when I don't see what I thought I'd clearly said. I asked God to forgive me for being upset. But this morning's feelings were different, and I'm pretty sure it was because of prayer. People say it changes things, and I agree. You couldn't tell me that the other night in bed, though, because ya girl was triggered. But today was a new day.
So, after I swept the floor, I walked past his bedroom. The ironing table is still up with the iron unplugged and full of water on its face. I emptied it and put the magazine back in his room. I picked up my luggage name tag, which reads "Mrs.," and put it in our bedroom. He used the travel suitcase for his trip and, of course, didn't need to be called Mrs. Ha!
And, he just called. Probably prompted by my reply to his "I made it" text. I sent a reply to Michae's "Cool." "Great!" I said. "Don't be a dirtbag. We'll talk about what I mean when you get back." LOL Petty? Just a tad. But I also infused some other life lessons in there and, of course, sprinkled it with love. And the Lord gave me a chance to speak when the phone rang. He wasn't mad, and I wasn't either. Just lost as to what I meant. So I explained what I'd found last night and what I did this morning. I shared what I wanted to see and what I meant, but talking does nothing, so we really will wait when he returns. I gave him some encouraging words and blessed him before hanging up.
Now, I've got 10 minutes to get dressed, put on another load of laundry, and out the house for my meeting! Thank you, Jesus, for this time, this lesson, and all things!
#SAHW on duty
Catch the story in video mode on my personal Instagram page: la_bella_nela
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