So God Made a Teacher Collection (Sale!) ➔

I had a conversation with a relative recently. I won’t get into the details, but he told me that stay-at-home moms don’t deserve a “day off” and that what they do isn’t a “real job”. 

I’m a stay-at-home mom. I have been for the past four years. I’m also a person who likes to feel accomplished and satisfied in the work I do everyday. So, it stung to have a member of my extended family basically tell me what I do every day is not worthwhile or even really necessary.

I ended my conversation with said relative at that time so I didn’t say something I’d regret. After all, it’s not the first time I’ve heard such mumbles about being a stay-at-home parent. Oftentimes, the opinions come from people who have never been a stay-at-home mom or dad.

I don’t want to demean working parents, because I’ll be totally honest, my hat is off to you. I don’t know how you do what you do and you have my full respect. No, this is about me and my fellow stay-at-home parents. The ones who have the privilege of being on the front lines of seeing our babies grow up. The ones who are in the thick of it day in and day out. The ones who have to multi-task our families needs with our own feelings of self-worth. The ones who never truly get a day off from our jobs because our jobs are our lives. 

I want you, my fellow stay-at-home mama (or dad) to realize you are worth so much more than what others have to say about your “occupation”. Your title as a stay-at home parent doesn’t define who you are deep down inside. It doesn’t define the person who has a life outside of her home and children. It doesn’t describe your education, your passions, your thoughts on life. 

Sure, we are in this phase of life when, the majority of the time, our needs come last and personal time is few and far between. We have babies grabbing at our pants, toddlers yelling to us from toilet seats, and we are always on the hunt for whatever possession our older kids have lost this time, not to mention making sure our spouses are happy, supported and taken care of. Heck, even the cat comes first sometimes. 

We are the centers of our families, the little engines that keep on ticking all hours of the day and night so the train can keep moving. Because there’s no slowing down, not ever. We all do so much for our children, our homes, and our families that when someone we thought was in our corner demeans what we do every day, it really hurts. It makes us look inward and question everything we have become. It makes us wonder if everything we do every day is worthless, pointless, fruitless?

Well, I’m here to tell you it does matter. It is not for nothing. What you are doing is so important. You may not see it yet, but someday, you will. You will see it on his first day of kindergarten, as he turns to look at you one last time before he walks through the door. You will see it when she takes her first step, and you are there to catch her before she falls on the second try. You will see it when he calls you from work to thank you for remembering to put the fork he forgot in his lunch pail for him. 

They will show you. The ones you stay at home for. The ones who rely on you to drive them, feed them, teach them, care for them, and love them. The ones who need you to be at home right now so your little tiny humans can grow under the daily care of one of their parents. 

Maybe you stay home because you don’t have a choice. Maybe you stay home to save money on childcare. Or maybe you are laid off and this gig is just temporary. No matter what your situation is, whether you are a stay-at-home mom by choice or circumstance, do not ever let anyone ever make you feel you are not worthy of praise, time to yourself, or acknowledgement.

You are worth so much—more than you know.

Britt LeBoeuf

Britt is a married mother of two from northern New York. She has an undergraduate degree in Human Services. When she's not chasing down her two young children, she writes for sites such as Her View From Home, Scary Mommy, Filter Free Parents and Sammiches and Psych Meds. Check out her first published book, "Promises of Pineford" on Amazon too. On her blog, These Boys of Mine, she talks about parenting only boys, special needs parenting, mental health advocacy, being a miscarriage survivor and life as a crazy cat lady. 

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking www.herviewfromhome.com

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading

Get our FREE phone wallpaper to encourage you as the new school year begins

It's bittersweet for a mother to watch her child grow—but you both are ready to soar.