There are days when I am sure that by the time August is old enough to go to school I will have about as many working brain cells as this author. For the life of me I cannot remember one quote from my favorite book or one line of a good song. But I can recite at least five Dr. Seuss books word for word at any given time of the day or night. I can also sing the theme song to Blue’s Clues, the Backyardigans, and Sesame Street. Hell, I wake up with “Old MacDonald” playing over and over in my head. I can’t tell you the last time I watched a television show uninterrupted or even turned on the radio in the car.

And this crucial time in the role of motherhood is exactly what I suppose a lot of women are afraid of. They are afraid it will never end, that they will never get their sassy zing or badda bing back. So they listen to that Freak of Nature tell them that staying at home to raise the children is a mistake because they will never be able to enter the workforce with dignity again. This, of course, is not what happens with most women. And aside from that, I consider any person who can get out of the 9-5 drudgery, if even for a few months, a very smart person.

I’m not going to fill this space full of those lines like “Being a stay at home mom is never boring!" Or “My job is the hardest job of all!” Staying at home with a 1 year old can be about as fun as getting a bikini wax some days. A bikini wax that takes 12 hours to do with no lunch break. And that is precisely what makes it hard to do.

That being said, there hasn’t been a day go by that I have wished I were at the office and not here with August. This isn’t because I am vying for Mother of The Year, but rather because I never was good at working for people who underpay me and treat me like shit. Call me crazy but I didn’t enjoy dressing, and eating in a hurry every morning just so I could get to the office at 8 (or earlier) only to have my boss stroll in 2 hours later asking me why I haven’t completed all the work he/she is getting paid to do. I didn’t like trying to meet impossible deadlines and wearing uncomfortable shoes every day and paying $10 for substandard lunches with people I didn’t actually have anything in common with except that we all hated working.

I may not be getting a paycheck for my SAHM job but at least I’m the boss.

Anyway, I’m just saying I sympathize with the fear of forgetting how to compete for a raise or wear painfully fashionable shoes while giving a two-hour presentation with a smile. But don’t you think some of the new skills I’m learning will come in handy? Like carrying a 25-pound baby on my hip during a two-hour family gathering and smiling? Aw yeah. I still got it, baby. I just wear it different.

Me, I’m never going back, if I can help it. I’ll work for sure, but never like before. I learned my lesson.

When I run into that Bitch author during my own book signing and she accuses me of doing “nothing” for a living. I’ll be all, "Damn right! I am so freaking lucky!”