Yep, you're right. I don't work.

Today I went to Starbucks to get my morning iced venti americano with vanilla and cream. I do this every weekday morning - it's part of my routine. I roll out of bed, put on a sweatshirt and slippers and pull my hair back into a really pretty messy pony. I load up the kiddos, drop Andrew off at school and head straight to the Starbucks drive-thru. I do this every morning. The lovely girls there know what I drink. They know my name. They know I do this every morning.

Disclaimer: The only reason I leave the house looking like I do in the morning is because I know I'm not actually getting out of the car. I am fully aware of my hot-mess status, but I don't care because I haven't had my coffee yet, therefore I am still partially asleep. And not ready to accept the fact that it's morning. If I actually had to get out of the car, I promise, a shower would be mandatory.

Okay, back to this morning. I pull up to the drive through, order my coffee at the little speaker box thingy and pull on up to the window. There is this older lady who works there - and she's nice. Fake, but nice. I'm gonna call her Marci. She's always pleasant, always chattin' in her raspy voice but I can tell that she can't be trusted. She's so plastic, it ain't even funny. But I don't care - as long as I get my coffee. It's all good in the hood.

Until today.

I pull up to the window. Marci greets me with her usual super fake smile. It looks like this:Marci: "Hi, hon. How you doin' this morning?"

Me: "Good, how are you?"

Marci (dripping with fakeness): "So super-dee-douper, hon! Thanks for asking. You headed to work this morning?"

I just blinked. And blinked some more. Was she insulting me? I think she was insulting me. Clearly I'm not heading to work. Unless my job was begging on the side of the freeway. And even then I think I'd try to dress up a bit more.

So I just laughed nervously while I gave myself a quick once over.......Awkward.

Me: "Uh......no."

Marci (slaps herself on her forehead with the palm of her hand): "Doh! That's right, hon! You don't work. You have two kids right?"

And now this is where I get pissed. I hate that. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate it when people say that being a stay-at-home-mom isn't work. And usually, I only hear that from old guys who've been around since women were being dragged into caves by their hair. I can (begrudgingly) understand those old farts. They aren't gonna change their way of thinking. And who cares, really. They'll probably be dead within the month anyways. Buh-bye.

But I don't usually hear it from women. Especially women who are old enough to have grandchildren. Now, this here's a guess, but I think this woman probably had children in her day. Because she certainly didn't decide against children so she could follow her career path. She serves coffee at Starbucks, for crying out loud! Nothing wrong with it - but it's sort of an entry level job.

I'm mad. I'm irritated. But I'm trying to smile, because it's the nice thing to do. And I don't want to get crappy coffee on Monday. I depend on that coffee. It's actually a slight addiction. I think I looked something like this:

Me: "Yeah, I have 3 kids. It's 3........not 2......3......kids......And they keep me busy enough, so......."

Marci (stares blankly): "....(blink, blink)........Well, alrighty then. You have a super duper day."

And with, that she slams the window shut.

Me: "Oh, yeah and I also have a business. See, I'm a photographer. I take pictures for people. That also takes up a lot of my time. It's crazy - being a stay-at-home-mom and a work-at-home-mom. I'm so busy I don't even know what to do with myself sometimes. I'm either cleaning floors, or scrubbing counters, or sucking bugars, or doing laundry, or wiping butts, or - oh, yeah and in between I take phone calls from clients and hope to GOD that one of my three, not two, three children doesn't "act up" while I'm trying my best to "sound all professional." Then I cook for those little children - and it's never what they want. No sir! If I make chicken nuggets, they want waffles. Waffles! Even though they just asked for chicken nuggets, they want WAFFLES!!!! I do all those things. And then some. I do a lot. I work. I work plenty! And I'm worn out at the end of the day - because I work all day, every day. I don't ever stop working. I work in my sleep! I work, I work, I work!!!!!"

By the time I was done saying all those things, I realized I'd driven all the way home and was just sitting in my driveway. Talking to myself.

Nice.

I look back at Alivia - and she's just staring at me.

Alivia: "Mooooooooooom?"

Me: "(sigh)......Yes, Liv?"

Alivia: "Can I have waffles?"