Mothers should Form a Union

One of the first things that you notice when you become a mother is that while the job has some nice perks (slobbery kisses and soft baby snuggles are just a couple), time off is nonexistent.

Everyone knows there are sleepless nights involved, but no one thinks of getting sick. If you get sick, you just suck it up and keep nursing, changing diapers, doing laundry, wiping chocolatey mouths and the hundreds of other daily chores that become almost painful while suffering the effects of whatever virus has come to roost. And those viruses come more often when you have children in the house.

Children are moist breeding grounds with a deeply embedded bacterial magnet. They are not just germ factories, they are more often than not Patient Zero. So while you are caring for your sick child, they lovingly share (as you have been repeatedly telling them to do) and within hours you are suffering the same symptoms.

My friend Holly lived this a couple weeks ago. She was comforting her 10 month old son when he baptized her in virulent puke. In a matter of mere hours she was worshipping at the porcelain altar, catching quick little naps while laying on the cold tile of her bathroom. Her son, in contrast, slept in peaceful comfort having rid himself of what ailed him. He didn't just share. He gave. Holly was less than proud.

The same goes for vacation time. There is no such thing as a vacation when you are a mother. Say you spend thousands of dollars on a tropical family trip. Do you honestly think there will be any REST or RELAXATION for Mom in that R&R? Nope. In fact, family vacations are actually MORE work for Mom.

First, a mother must pack up everything packable. Let's just talk clothing for example. If you are gone 6 days, you'll need 9 pairs of pajamas per child (one for each day plus three extras in case of accidents). A minimum of fifteen daytime outfits per child (that's 2 per day plus three extra in case of accidents). Then you'll need several bathing suits per child and swim diapers if you are putting your little ones in the water. Oh, and don't forget the shoes. A pair of gym shoes, a pair of beach shoes, a pair of sandals, and their slippers. That's four pairs -- per child. Undergarments. Well, just bring as many as you own if your child is not way, way, WAY past potty training. Accidents always seem to happen when they are least convenient. A hot, sticky, sandy beach with only a filthy 60 year old public bathroom used mainly by vagrants sums up inconvenient.

And that is just for clothing. Then there are diapers and burp cloths, wipes and ointment, pacifiers, strollers and a sling, the Pack and Play, carseats, a breastpump and bottles, the baby food maker, sunblock, floaties, toys, toys, books, and toys, blankies, baby shampoo, a first aid kit, and DVDs.

Let's not forget Dad's golf clubs, either. He is, afterall, on vacation.

Who ever set the airlines' 50lb per bag limit never went on vacation with children. Wanna know what Mom gets to pack with that strict limit? A frumpy skirted bathing suit, a toothbrush, and a t-shirt that reads, "I [heart] Mom."

This past week, I've been both suffering from a cold inherited from my generous children and packing up 30% of our household goods for a week long R&R.

Jail time with Martha Stewart is looking better every day.