The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

Dear stay-at-home moms,

After one week of isolation, I wanted to tell you that you are the real MVPs of motherhood. I know I will probably get some backlash from everyone but listen here, you are my heroes! I’m a working mom. I teach middle school science and at 3:00, I clock out of that job and clock in to my second job of being a mommy. Some days I am completely exhausted by time I arrive at my second job but with dinner, homework, playtime, and bed, the night goes by pretty quickly.

When our governor said schools would be closed for two weeks I had big plans. I wanted to clean out the closets, deep clean the house, donate items, and watch some serious television. This was going to be a nice relaxing break while hunkered down due to the pandemic. But by the weekend, I accomplished zero of those items on my to-do list minus the television. I’ve now listened to Frozen 2 so many times, I think I’m from Arendelle at this point.

RELATED: What if I’m Just Not a Good Stay-at-Home Mom?

From the moment my kids woke up, it was if I’d laced up my tennis shoes for a marathon.

I’ve been cooking, cleaning, changing diapers, and completing school work day in and day out. I’ve had to search for ways to entertain them throughout the day so their brains don’t rot on technology. I’ve eaten the crumbs from their plates as lunch. I took a shower but I never once actually got ready because I didn’t have time to. This week I went to bed more exhausted than working the whole week. Just when I thought I had a pattern down, the little tiny monsters would come at me from a different angle. The bickering, the fighting, the craziness and guess what another month of isolation and NO END in sight!

SAHMs, you are my heroes because you do this daily. You give all of yourselves to your children every single day. After one week, I realize you rarely get a break, eat a full meal, or have the chance to get dressed and you wake up the next morning and do this again. You don’t get a chance to close the office door, clock out, or gossip with colleagues.

RELATED: What Do Stay-at-Home Moms Do All Day?

I hear SAHMs say, “I’m just a stay-at-home mom!”

Sister, you are so much more than that.

You are a mom, teacher, worship leader, grocery grabber, entertainer of the year, and an amazing individual. You are the heart of your children’s physical, social, and emotional well-being and what an awesome job that it.

SAHMs, I know I’m not cut out for this job but I’m glad I get a glimpse of what your daily life looks like. You really do work way harder than I do and you are the unsung heroes of the century.

Friends, if you know a stay-at-home mom, buy her some wine or ice cream, because I know now after spending a week in their shoes, SHE DESERVES IT!

Out of the Spin Cycle is a serious game-changer for motherhood. We can’t put it down! Don’t have time to sit and read? You can listen here, on Audible.

Recommendations in this post contain affiliate links. Her View From Home may receive a small commission if you choose to purchase.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Dana Brady

I'm Dana or Dana Sue when my parents used to get fired up about something. I run a tiny blog called Live Simply Blessed which was created on a whim! Through my writing, I hope to encourage others to be strong and courageous. I'm a wife, a mother to four little people and a full-time middle grades educator who runs on caffeine and exercise. I'm passionate about my family, my faith, and adoption. Follow me on Instagram at live_simply_blessed for some crazy photos of me, the ringmaster, and the circus I run here in Kentucky. 

If You Give a Mom a Bouquet…

In: Motherhood
Woman arranging bouquet of pink flowers on table

If you give a mom a bouquet… She goes to grab a vase to put it in. As she grabs the vase, she also grabs the duster because she knows the spot for the vase is probably dusty and she has guests coming for dinner. As she begins dusting, she notices the stack of books that needs to go back on the shelf. When she gets to the shelf, she sees the bendy action figures in battle formation that need to go back in the bin. When she gets to the bin, she spots the toy food that needs to...

Keep Reading

Here In the Liminal Space of Parenting

In: Motherhood
Woman in tunnel

It’s Friday night at 8:00. The intermittent snoring of an 80-pound lap dog is the only thing slicing through the silence of my home. It feels empty, and there is a stillness in the air. I have nowhere to be; there is nobody waiting to be picked up. I’m staring at the empty takeout boxes from dinner sitting on the coffee table. There was no need to cook a big meal; it was just the two of us, my husband and me, sitting together wistfully in this liminal space of parenting. It is the quiet place between an empty nest...

Keep Reading

Mothers Are the Givers

In: Motherhood
Mom embracing young daughter

As we were decorating the tree last Christmas, my son dug to the bottom of a box and pulled out a Snoopy ornament. He set it off to the side quickly and continued his rifling. But I noticed the faint crack along the red jukebox that Snoopy stood beside. In an instant, I was standing back in the kitchen of our first home watching my son wander in to ask, in the cutest toddler voice, if he could “pwess” the button on the ornament to play the music. With gleeful excitement, he pressed too hard. The ornament slipped from his...

Keep Reading

Hyperemesis Gravidarum Means I Survived Something No One Could See

In: Motherhood
Pregnant woman lying on couch with hand on forehead

My hands were trembling as I reached for the pregnancy test developing on the bathroom counter. It had been three months since we lost our second pregnancy to miscarriage, and I was cautiously optimistic that this was our month. My heart tried to leap out of my chest when I saw the two lines. Our rainbow baby had been conceived. Let me preface the rest of this story by saying I knew my pregnancy wouldn’t be magical. My pregnancy with my son, who was 22 months old at the time, hadn’t been, and the short weeks leading up to my...

Keep Reading

I’m Learning To Feel Like I Belong In a Room Because I Want Her To Know She Always Does

In: Living, Motherhood
Little girl looking in the mirror

It took me 39 years to like myself. I mean really, honestly look in the mirror and say, “You go, girl.” I understand the concept of progress, not perfection, but the idea of always working on myself became a tiring and unrelenting objective. Here I was shrinking that waist, smoothing my skin, studying hard, working way too late, and often burning the candle at both ends to yield results that were still less than the ideal. It’s all well and good to be a doer who sets reasonable and sometimes unreasonable goals, but throughout my teens and into my early...

Keep Reading

Soon There Will Be No More Breakfasts To Make

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Ten boy eating breakfast at kitchen counter

T-minus 44 days until a new beginning- Math has never been my strong suit or my favorite subject, but it will be about 19 years spent rising and trying to shine in our house. Nineteen years of prepping one, two, or all three of our sons to get up and ready for school. Nineteen years of making breakfast. Nineteen years of making lunches. For those of you in the thick of it right now, you know exactly what I mean. I think my husband Steve and I have it down to a science now. If we had to do it...

Keep Reading

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother with three grown daughters

During my oldest daughter’s freshman year of college, I started being haunted by a recurring dream of an old-fashioned suitcase—one of those hard-sided ones that’s as big as they come. In the dream, when I open the suitcase, it’s overflowing with clothing, shoes, and all kinds of stuff that belongs to me and each of my three daughters. Everything in the suitcase is all jumbled together. Nobody else in the dream is worried about sorting through everything, but I am totally stressed about it. To top it all off, I have to deal with this suitcase while preparing for a...

Keep Reading

The Half-Dressed Mom and Love in the Details

In: Motherhood
Woman sitting with coffee cup and book on bed

I am a proper mom. Not fancy, not prim—practical. I am dressed for the time of day, always. That is simply who I am. Except for this morning. This morning I was in a towel, bracing the bathroom counter, writhing in pain, and trying not to scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors. I had seen a specialist just the day before. He’d said I needed six weeks to heal before they could do further exploration. What he hadn’t said—what I hadn’t understood—was how much the healing itself would hurt. My 23-year-old daughter, Aislyn, found me like that. Panicked. Half-dressed....

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood
Boy sitting in middle of toys smiling

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading