On her most recent visit from Ohio--my mother in law and I were sitting in the living room while she was rocking the baby--just chattin' about life.  She looked up at me and asked "So, what do you do all day?"

I didn't quite know where you were coming from--so I was like "What do you mean by that?"

She came back at me "Well, I mean--you ain't working--you ain't got but one baby--what do you do all day long?"

I had to clear my throat and suppress my desire to scratch her eyeballs out and I replied with a fake smile, "Well, I take care of your grandson, keep the house clean, make sure everything is in order--do the grocery shopping and such..."

She interrupted, "Well, I had FIVE kids and I still did all that and I was working."

At this point I was ready to poke hols in her oxygen tubing and strike a match near the tank in order to ignite the explosion.

But I swallowed the urge to put her 6-feet under and I responded purposefully, "Things are a little different now--and with the high cost of day care and child predators, I figured it'd be best for me to stay home with the baby."

"But that still don't answer my question," she wasn't satisfied, "I wanna know what you do all day."

I hear that over and over again from people--especially sisters who are single parents--and who work one or two jobs while raising their babies.

"Well, let's see--I wake up, fix breakfast for Shawn--change the baby--feed him--get him cleaned up--we have play time--I put him down for a nap--I clean up--make up the beds--sanitize the restrooms--wash the dishes--put clothes in the wash--check e-mails and blog--by that time the baby is up--it's time for lunch--we clean up yet again--and we read books--I run any errands that need to happen--drop off dry cleaning--pick up groceries, toilet paper, etc.--come home and cook dinner for Shawn--by this time Drew needs a snack--then I put him to sleep--if I'm lucky, while the food is cooking, I try to bathe, brush my teeth and put a comb in my hair--when Drew wakes up it's time for Shawn to come home--at which point he plays with dad for 5-minutes before Shawn walks upstairs to take his time and undress, take a long hot shower, get a beer read his e-mail and when Shawn is done and relaxed and ready--we eat dinner--after we eat--I feed Drew his dinner--his daddy then takes him while I clean the kitchen and wipe down Drew's high chair--if I still got clothes in the dryer--I go ahead and fold them and put them up.  When all that is done, I sit down in the rocker--at which time I take Andrew and give him a warm bottle--rock him to sleep and put him in the bed."

But should I have to explain all that?  I'm working damn-it. My job is stay-at-home momma and part time broadcaster--and I make NO apologies for being dedicated to my family and being at home all day.

White women been doing it all along--they get pregnant--they stay home with their kids--nobody makes them feel guilty about it.  It's encouraged.  But I stay home with my son all day and suddenly I'm lazy!

Ain't a damn thing lazy about being a stay-at-home momma! It's EASIER for me to go to work--ship Andrew off to the day care and only see him about 4 hours a day when I get home from being cooped up at the job all day.  But, I sacrificed my career and my status at the television to stay home with my baby--and to some--that makes me less than a real woman. 

Even Shawn gets in on the act sometimes--he don't know how close he's been to death. He'll come home from work and I'm still in my nightclothes--ain't had time to comb my hair--and dinner is a bit late.  Andrew's been fussy all day and Shawn has no idea baby boy's been cuttin' the fool--or I've had a writing assignment due that I had to craft with one hand cause I was holding Andrew in the other.  And Shawn looks at me sarcastically and asks, "Why you ain't comb your hair today?"

Well, the tables were reversed this weekend--I had to pull a 12-hour shift and Shawn was home with Andrew all day. I walked in the house and that negro literally threw that baby at me like a bag of dry cleaning.  Shawn looked beaten--'cause Andrew had busted his head in!  That joker picked up his keys--kissed me on the forehead and left.  "I need a break!" was all he said.

And I knew he needed to get away--cause being at home with the baby all day is hard work.  Ain't no ifs-ands-or-buts-about-it.  I really hope he remembers that--cause I don't get no break!