Paparazzi

I'm sure we've all seen the clips on tv or online with different starlets and hunky men from television & movies. They are chased relentlessly by the paparazzi. They take their pictures are out on dates, trips to the store or out with their kids. Calling their name, wanting the picture that will get them the most money. I can't imagine being hassled like that or hounded until you have a car accident or just want to escape. The celebs wear wigs, sunglasses and try secluded spots to try & avoid the paparazzi.

I realize that being a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom) isn't exactly glam to a lot of people. Sometimes it's not to us either! There's diapers, accidents that don't even make it INTO the diapers, illness, tantrums, biting, pinching, scratching and of course crying jags (although some of those could be mine). Now there ARE several perks to the job though. Hugs, kisses & that little light in their eyes that comes alive when you walk in a room. Those are all the obvious ones, but did you know being a SAHM wins you your own groupies? Yes, that's right, I have my very own paparazzi. They follow me around wherever I go. I go out in the garage to do laundry, they are pounding on the door trying to get to me. (or perhaps it's the snacks I keep out there)
The bathroom--a shower means little hands reaching under the door or crying outside making me rush leaving soap in my hair so I can rush out & address my waiting "paps" in a towel.

Dinner is a huge event. I swear they can hear me open the fridge and they come running. They're like cats and the can opener! I'm beginning to wonder if they've used their allowance to go buy one of those Listen Up! hearing devices. Once they're in the kitchen with me it's all grabbing at my legs, swiping at food, pushing cups at me for refills, and asking when they can have this or that. They hound me until I can't take anymore, or I feed them. It's even worse when I try to go to the grocery store. I come back & there they are, waiting for me. I can barely get in the back door with the sacks & slap them up on the counter & there they are wanting me to pick them up like they haven't seen me in days, pulling at me to get them something (what's wrong with your dad's arms?) or digging through the sacks to see what I've brought them.

My paparazzi is relentless, annoying and has very sharp elbows. BUT, they're my biggest fans. They aren't going to sell my autograph on ebay, they don't want the "money shot" of me with no make-up, they just want me. I think I can dig that. Most days anyway.