Rachel Campos-Duffy - Stay Home, Stay Happy: 10 Secrets to Loving At-Home Motherhood

Table of Contents

Rachels breezy style combined with a compelling story helps this inspirational parenting book rise above the others. Shes hip, shes smart, and her no apologies approach to stay-at-home parenting will help other moms feel not meek but mighty.

Juliet Huddy, The Morning Show with Mike and Juliet

More profound than a basic self-help book. Stay Home, Stay Happy isnt just about making the house run better or making ones self feel better. It gets to the essence of finding fulfillment and happiness with the choices we make.

Pia de Solenni, SThD, MoralTheologian.com

Evita, Jack, Lucia-Belen, John-Paul and Paloma
Youve made it more fun than I could have ever imagined.

Sean
Ten years and I still cant believe my luck.

Ruth
The wisdom you imparted shall ever remain.

Julie, my sister, my friend, without you I could have never launched or completed this project. We are a good team.

Cat, thank you for still believing in me after all these years. I cherish our friendship.

Maura, my literary agent, you are simply the best.

Tracy, my editor, I have learned so much from you. Thank you for your patience.

Ray, thank you for your enthusiasm and continued belief in this project.

Mama and Pappi, thank you for loving me and always valuing my life as an at-home mom.

Leah, your friendship means the world to me.

Frank Folino, thank you for loving our family.

Ta Nieves, thank you for your love.

To all the mothers who have mentored me.

And most especially to God and our Blessed Mother, who have always held me in their tender care.

INTRODUCTION

Soon after my latest child was born, on a beautiful Wisconsin spring morning, I packed up the kids for a trip to the park. My husband was out of town on business and this was my first excursion alone with all five children. Though by any standard I would be considered an experienced mom, truthfully, I was a little nervous. I wondered if I would be able to handle them by myself. My body hadnt quite recovered from Palomas birth, and my energy and reflexes were sluggish from late-night feedings. Nonetheless, in Wisconsin good weather is fleeting, and I knew my kids would appreciate playing with all the other winter-weary children at the local park. And so we all piled into the car.

Immediately after the car stopped, the kids popped the car door open and spilled out of the minivan into the park, running in every which direction. I watched the ensuing chaos from a bench, holding the baby, and felt my trepidation slip away. Eventually, my sweet and pensive six-year-old son, Jack, took a break from the action and wandered over to me and the baby. Playing with his two-week-old sisters feet, he exclaimed, Oh, Mommy! Shes soooo cuuute.... I didnt know your belly could work so well. My heart melted. I filed the moment away in my mind, where I store all the precious things my kids say (instead of the far more reliable practice of dutifully writing them down for easy wedding-day retrieval). Kids often say things unexpectedly profound, and I grasped a profound truth in Jacks gentle words: I didnt know my belly would work so well either. Or that becoming a mom would so completely transform me and, in the process, my definition of happiness and success. I often think back to the day that unexpectedly changed my life, my attitude, and the way that I saw myself as an at-home mom.

That morning in 2003, the phone finally rang. I knew it was Barbara WaltersBarbara Walters and Bill Geddie, the executive producers of The View. I had spent several weeks guest cohosting on the show, and was a finalist for the open cohost spot. Now Barbara and Bill were calling the three finalists to inform them who had been selected to fill that vacant seat. Anxiety, excitement, and even a dose of confidence were fighting for space inside my stomach. My entire midsection was a tightly wound knot bound together with so many different emotions.

This call had the potential to instantly transform my career from fading reality TV personality to bona fide daytime TV star. A Hispanic woman had never before been given such a platform on daytime television. A part of me was confident that the nationwide hunt to fill The Views open slot would end in this groundbreaking result. But I focused too on another, more immediate and tangible effect of the call. If selected, in a matter of days I would have to uproot my little family from a sleepy, safe, rural Wisconsin town to the fast-paced, urban lifestyle of New York City. My ever-supportive (and hunky) husband, Sean, had agreed to give up his job as Wisconsins youngest district attorney and follow me to New York City, where he would take over my job as at-home parent to our then-four-year-old Evita, two-year-old Jack, and soon-to-be-born Lucia-Belen. I was both proud and scared at the thought of switching roles. Suddenly I would become our familys breadwin ner, and with that came a different kind of responsibility. All three finalists had presigned contracts in the event they were chosen, and though I knew my income at The View would surpass the government salary we were currently living on, I had only the vaguest idea of the actual costs of New York City living. I worried whether my salary would be enough to live on. More than the financial repercussions of the decision, I was apprehensive about relinquishing the role I had grown to adore: being the heart of my familys life. I was sure that Sean, as helpful and giving as he is, could never duplicate my efforts as the familys heartbeat, and with me working, I wondered about the impact this would have on all of us.

So that morning I let the phone ring an obligatory three times so as not to seem too desperate. I ran to our home office and shut the door so that Barbara would not have to hear the chaotic whirlwind of breakfast, Sesame Street, crying over spilled cereal and lost mittens, and everything else associated with getting hubby and preschooler out the door. I imagined Barbara Walters morning routine: fluffy robe and matching kitten-heeled slippers, mimosas and personal assistants. I was sure my house sounded like total anarchy in comparison. I calmly said, Hello, into the phones mouthpiece, trying not to reveal any nerves (in case, of course, they were recording this to be used in the next days show). A young womans voice said, Rachel, Barbara and Bill are on the line.

Barbara opened the conversation by telling me in that familiar, quasi-aristocratic, motherly way how delightful I had been throughout the audition process. Uh-oh, the setup. Trying hard to stay positive, I thought, OK, theyre doing the lets make her think shes not getting it act. I started to feel sick. Was I even breathing? I heard Barbaras and Bills voices but I wasnt really listening. Their voices sounded garbled, like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons. Bill astutely figured out that I had yet to fully grasp the substance of the conversation.

Finally, Bill gently said, Weve decided on Elisabeth.

My graceful response?

Youre kidding, right?

No, they were not kidding. It was painfully awkward, not least because I could sense how bad they felt. Though I wanted to make it easier for them and quickly hang up, I just couldnt let them off the phone so fast. I had to know