My Interview for the Position of Stay-at-Home Mom
By dvorakoelling on May 22, 2013
Featured Member Post
For a multitude of reasons, my husband and I have decided it might be best if I become a stay-at-home mom.
And for a multitude of reasons, I am excited, nervous, and eager to possibly begin this very new, very important chapter of my life.
I’m kind of panicking, to be honest. I mean, I want very badly to be THE BEST SAHM the world has ever known. Yes, I know it’s an impossibility, and that putting that kind of pressure on myself is ridiculous. But really, truly, I want to do a DAMN good job as a full-time mommy. In preparation for the transition, I’ve created schedules, ordered educational toys and materials, joined a handful of mommy groups, and mapped out lots of different local attractions and activities I can use for our daily outings. I’m taking this whole thing very seriously. Maybe a bit TOO seriously.
To lighten the mood in my brain, I’ve been fantasizing about what it would be like if I actually had to have a job interview with my kiddos. Granted, my son is only six months old, and my daughter is only two and a half, so some of the imagined conversation is a bit contrived, but it makes me laugh, and that’s really all that matters.
Allow me to share.
Scene: A fluorescent-lit meeting room with one of those very long, very intimidating meeting room tables. My daughter is sitting at the far end, in a booster seat that makes her head just peek out over the top of the table. To her immediate right, my son is sitting in a noisy swing, swinging back and forth, teething on his favorite chew toy.
Emmy: Good morning, mama. So you’ve come to interview for the position of Stay-at-Home-Mom?
Me: Yes, good morning. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I really appreciate the opportunity.
Emmy: Of course. It’s our pleasure. Have a seat.
(Emmy points to the seat at the far opposite end of the table. I take a seat.)
Emmy: We’ve looked at your resume. We haven’t read it, because we can’t read, but we’ve looked at it. Tell me, why have you decided to apply for this position?
Me: Well, in a nut shell, I’ve decided that being a good mommy to you and Baby O is my number one priority right now, and other things can wait. I want to provide both of you with a loving, consistent environment that fosters your growth and development.
Emmy: That’s all well and good, mama, theoretically speaking. But let’s talk about your qualifications. Are you familiar with “Ring Around the Rosie?”
Me: Of course, yes. I’m very familiar with “Ring Around the Rosie.”
Emmy: How many times IN A ROW would you say you’d be willing to play “Ring Around the Rosie”?
Me: Um, off the top of my head? Maybe FOUR times?
(Baby O stops teething and looks at me with horror)
Emmy: FOUR times? Just FOUR times?
Me: Okay, maybe FIVE times?
Emmy: That will NEVER do. We’re going to need you to play “Ring Around the Rosie” at least eighteen times in a row, mama. With enthusiasm. No excuses. Do you think you can do that?
Me: (with some very acute hesitation) Sure. Yeah. I can do that. Eighteen times, huh?
Emmy: And none of that pseudo “ooh, I’m falling down” charade. You can’t just SQUAT and call it “falling down.” You’re going to need to fall ALL THE WAY DOWN.
Me: I can do it. I can.
Emmy: Moving on. Let’s talk about lunch. Lunch is very important around here. How good are you at making chicky sammiches?
Me: I’m REALLY GOOD at making chicky sammiches, Emmy. I use just the right amount of turkey, and your favorite kind of bread…
Emmy: Do you cut the sandwich into squares or triangles?
Me: Generally speaking, squares…
Emmy: (thinking) uh huh… any other shapes?
Me: Well, I tried to make a star-shaped sandwich once.
Emmy: Yeah, we all know how THAT turned out. It was a disaster. It didn’t even look like a star. It looked like a HOUSE.
Me: I promise I will work on my sammich shape repertoire. Through this job, I will hone my sammich-making skills.
Emmy: And how long would you say it takes you to eat lunch?
Me: I’m a quick eater. I need MAYBE ten minutes, tops.