Being a "Stay At Home Mom" 👶

We recently celebrated one year being in Turlock. This day also marked a big transition for me personally: the decision to work inside the home. Since I was 15 years old I’ve had a job. From my first diner girl job to working at an Italian restaurant through high school to my first full-time job at UC Berkeley where I fell in love with the campus setting and being a part of a student’s educational journey. I’ve loved working in Higher Education for the past 6 years, and I felt good at it.  I always seemed to get positive feedback, it challenged me and excited me and ultimately grew me. I loved my job even after I had Eleanor. I always said that it made going back to work so much easier because of how much I loved working with students.

When we moved to Turlock we had just found out I was pregnant and I was in the throes of morning sickness so we decided that it made the most sense for me to take some time off work and stay home with Eleanor. I honestly hated the idea of being a “stay at home mom”. Still I had no idea that the transition would be so hard for me. For one, taking care of Eleanor all day was tiring in and of itself. I longed for the days when I would drop her off in the morning at day care, then go to work. I missed being able to drive in the car alone. To go pee alone. To have a lunch break where I could choose to go for a run or eat lunch by myself or call a friend. Even with my part-time job that lets me work from home, there have been so many moments of feeling so sick and tired of the mundane-ness that I would randomly apply for five jobs--jobs that I wouldn’t even like doing! It was a hard year in a lot of ways, and a lot of identity searching happened once my job was removed. I so struggled with the idea of busy = important. When you wake up Monday morning and the only thing on your schedule for the entire week is naps and mealtimes—it’s easy to slip into the lie that you are unimportant. Or disappearing. Or that everyone else is out there doing cool things in their careers and getting ahead while you just change another diaper. The year was full of wrestling with where God had me. I remember returning again and again to Psalm 16.

You make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.

I hated these verses as I read and reread them. I did not want to accept the boundary lines of my life. My portion felt so small. I wanted more. More activities. More money. More friends. More plans. I cried for God to help me see that my life was pleasant when it just felt to small and not enough.

Soon it got close to Jude’s due date so I resigned to stop applying for jobs because I knew by the time I would start I’d have to take maternity leave which just felt unethical. In the fall I started going to a mom’s group every Thursday morning. This is where it hit me that there were other women out there doing this same very thing I am doing. Duh. But I had forgotten during the months of being cooped up in my house feeling sorry for myself. So I forced my introverted self to go every Thursday morning to meet new people, to make other mama friends, to read and study God’s word together and feel less alone and crazy.

For the first time I’m scheduling play dates with other moms—mostly for our own sanity than the kid’s enjoyment because let’s be honest—Elle doesn’t totally grasp the concept of friends quite yet—and she DEFINITELY hasn’t grasped the concept of sharing….(eye roll...also please send help on how to teach this).

I also started going for daily walks. Usually in the morning after we get dressed and eat breakfast. I learned all the streets of our neighborhood and then ventured out further to explore more of town. I found houses I loved (and secretly coveted) and got to know which houses had dogs and cats for us to wave to as we walked by. I found some podcasts to subscribe to weekly which I listened to on our walks and filled my mind with new ideas.

One day I decided that I wanted to start reading. I’m notorious for starting books and reading about 24 pages and forgetting about it. So I made a list and I just started reading. During naps. At night in bed. Sometimes outside while Elle played. Since last April I’ve read 9 books and I feel like I deserve a medal. I’ve read books on managing finances, and disciplining your kids, and autobiographies, and the art of homemaking. I feel so inspired and am constantly talking to people about what I’m reading and asking for good book recommendations to add to my list (so please send any my way).

I also decided that I was OVER eating slow cooked chicken and rice or quesadillas. We had this beautiful new kitchen and I got motivated to use it. I broke out my cookbooks from our wedding registry that were gathering dust, I looked online for easy but new recipes to get my feet wet. I’ve called my parents countless times and said “hey send me the recipe for the cowboy potatoes and meatloaf we always used to make.” 

I honestly didn’t know how to cook a steak. Or use onions or garlic when I cooked. But I started slowly. I made “Better Than Take Out Fried Rice”. Turkey burgers and homemade sweet potato fries. I mastered a banana nut bread which Elle and I both love eating for breakfast. I landed on my favorite homemade chocolate chip cookie recipe thanks to my bestie Shana. I made soup and bread from scratch! Honestly I didn’t even recognize myself. And sometimes you couldn’t the recognize the food because it was so very bad. But that didn’t stop me.

I’ve slowly created a Chapman Family Recipe book, just like I had growing up. I’m trying to master the 20 recipes in the book before adding more. My hope’s one day I wont have to use the book, my fingers will just know what to do—like tying your shoes. But right now, I have the cookbooks sprawled out in my kitchen every night and I’m lousy at timing all the dishes and sometimes we eat at 8pm. But I still enjoy it, and I feel so proud when I make a meal that’s fresh and healthy and still taste good! Who knew?!

Jeffrey and I have also had one of the hardest years in our (very short) marriage. We’ve had periods of disconnect and silence and resentment. We’ve felt misunderstood by the other. Unappreciated. We’ve had a lot of long (tearful on my part) nights sitting on the couch in our living room, trying to talk through the tension. We went through the tough weeks/months of adjusting to a newborn sleeping next to us at night and demanding all our energy and patience so we had none left for each other.

We’ve also gone through a marriage course to strengthen us and give us tools to use. We’ve joined a house group through our church for community and accountability. We found a babysitter and implemented a regular date night. For the first time EVER we are budgeting and trying to aggressively become debt-free. I feel like we are more of a team now than ever. I am learning there are some things I just do better in our marriage (keeping the house picked up), and there are things Jeffrey does better (cleaning up water I spill on the kitchen floor) and to just do what you do best and give the other grace. We are learning to give more verbal affirmation of each other which has become so important now that we have more distinct roles. We’re learning to go to prayer earlier rather than later.

And as for my own heart, even though I have less “me” time —I feel more grounded than ever. Morning quiet time has become a habit, like brushing my teeth. I sit down to write a lot more, because it gives me life and I enjoy it and I’m learning to name the things I need and then work with Jeffrey to find time for them. I have now gained and lost 30 lbs twice in the past two years and I have stretch marks on my belly but I have never felt stronger or more proud of my body. I’m constantly reminded of this when I carry Jude around on my hip all day or lug Eleanor, Jude, AND the groceries in the house in one trip, without even thinking about it. I feel stronger—emotionally and physically. 

As I look back, this past year has been one of my biggest years of growth. I am so surprised at the things I’ve done—none of which have made a huge stamp in the world, or within the context of a job. I haven’t forwarded my career. I haven’t earned a lot of money. I haven’t really traveled anywhere super cool. Most of the photos on my phone are of my everyday life with the kids. But somehow I finally understand Psalm 16. Or maybe I just feel like God is answering my prayer I prayed a year ago—totally angry and not really believing He could do what He says He can.

Now I feel deep down that the boundary lines have fallen in the exact right places. I feel like the Lord has proven He is enough for me. I feel like I am embracing my cup and my portion—which on most days looks like a lot of spit up on my workout clothes (even though I have no plans of going to the gym) and changing sheets for the third time this week because someone keeps peeing through their clothes at night (it’s not Jeffrey, don’t worry).

But it also looks like sitting outside more and breathing in the fresh air and chopping onions and garlic and rosemary. I don’t know if I’ll always stay home with the kids, or if I’ll go back to work this year—but for now, my boundary lines are beautiful.