When I Wish I Could Delegate

I'll Take The Last 3 Hours of My Life BackI adore being a SAHM and tolerate the many hats I wear (personal assist to an infant, resident chef, laundress, maid, gofer, household warden). The exception is my part-time gig as “superintendent to various technicians and/or delivery persons.”

As I sit here housebound entertaining my son, unable to run obligatory errands, and pining for our stroller time that constitutes my sole daily refuge; I’m penning my letter of resignation. The role of stay-at-home mom becomes literal on these days.

I’d revel in the opportunity to linger around during an inaccurate “service window” if it provided me an excuse to catch up on crossword puzzles or polish off the latest novel I’ve been itching to read, but I have an insatiable infant on top of a household to run. Perhaps my resignation is premature and today’s tardy technician will apologize, as I hold my cranky infant, for inconveniencing my entire day with his/her laggard appearance. However, I anticipate the typical rude greeting that implies I have gobs of free time to wait for: a cable technician, chimney cleaner, exterminator, electrician, carpenter…the list exhausts itself.

I’d like to acknowledge as part of my resignation that I was unqualified for this position in the first place, as it constitutes a great deal of free time, a concept I’ve been unaccustomed to for over a year. My only qualification is the fact that my workplace is situated at home because the flexibility I have doesn’t grant me the luxury of this role. This may come as a shock to my neighbors, employed outside the home, who utilize me as the resident UPS greeter. That’s right, fellow inhabitants of our condo building have instructed UPS delivery workers to ring our buzzer so I can let them into the building. No problem, interruptions are always welcome when you’re juggling a temperamental child and all the household chores left in his wake. Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors have a death wish when they gamble with the possibility of a delivery person waking up my sleeping child.

Being a stay-at-home mom is a tough job, requiring a hazmat suit half the time, please delete waiting around for various technicians from my repertoire of responsibilities. 


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