stay at home

‘My spouse is a hoarder. In our old house, we had a shed that was his, and his alone. I didn’t dare go in his ‘man cave.’ Now, his hoarding skills have made him a hero.’: Wife recounts how hoarding husband turns to hero

“One of the things he insisted on keeping were a couple boxes of masks. MASKS. Not just any mask, but military-grade, N-95 masks. His brother had given the masks to family members after saving them from a surplus sale at Camp Williams in Utah. There were thousands.”

‘There’s no easy way to say this,’ the voice said. ‘But the client before you at the salon just tested positive for coronavirus.’: Woman exposed to virus at hair salon urges for ‘social distancing’

“‘Her appointment was 11:00 a.m. Yours was 11:30 a.m.’ A heavy silence hung between us. ‘Did we sit in the same chair?’ I asked. ‘Yes,’ he said. My heart lurched. We breathed the same air. We put our hands on the same surfaces. Our heads in the same shampoo bowl. I hung up and stared at the can in my shaking right hand. I tiptoed into my husband’s office and scribbled a note on a scrap of paper: ‘We need to talk.'”

‘You get to sit home all day, what do you have to cry about?’ We get told we’re ‘lazy.’ That it’s not ‘real work’ so we have nothing to complain about.’: Mom urges ‘check in on your SAHM friends, we are NOT okay’

“You smell like sweat and tears for days at a time. You don’t get breaks. You lock yourself in the bathroom and scream into a towel while crying because you need a second to breathe, all while a child is banging on the door to get in. You forget what it means or feels like to be an individual. I was one of those people who judged SAHM’s. But I get it now. We are lonely and alone.”

‘My husband and I married. ‘I’m going to be a stay-at-home mom,’ I declared. With little push-back from him, out popped 2 children.’: SAHM’s candid feelings on feeling ‘horribly unseen’

“I proceeded with my plan to be Susie Homemaker meets Carol Brady. But no one was around to witness it. I was with another human all day, but felt horribly unseen. I was over-touched, but not talked to enough. I’d been constantly moving, but never really exercised my mind. I often found myself staring at the clock, willing the magical sound of the garage door to arrive.”

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