No, I donā€™t have a job, and no, I canā€™t pick up your phone call. Just text me. Ya feel me?

ā€œWho are you, the president?ā€

It was my dadā€™s joking retort.

Iā€™d just told him I had seven minutes to talk. I was about to turn into preschool car line, and I could tell he was about to launch into a long story.

ā€œNo,ā€ I laughed. ā€œBut I canā€™t talk long!ā€

No, I donā€™t have a job. But no, Iā€™m not always able to talk on the phone. My dad understands, but his silly remark made me think about it a little more.

And the more I thought about it, I realized itā€™s probably puzzling and maybe even downright annoying, those who donā€™t have young kids.

Why canā€™t you call me when you donā€™t even have a job? Iā€™m sure they wonder.

And so, Iā€™ll tell you.

1. It is loud around me ALL THE TIME.

Even during car rides, when all the kids are restrained. There are questions, requests, spills and fights. I can barely hear myself think, let alone form a sentence. Iā€™ll text you. During nap time.

2. Iā€™m not going to remember what we talk about.

This is why when our banker or realtor or accountant asks if they can call me back, I simply say, ā€œEmail is best for me. Can you email me instead?ā€ I used to offer an explanation, but now I just donā€™t. And they email and then I save brain cells.

3. We will be interrupted every 30 seconds.

Itā€™s not that my kids arenā€™t self-sufficient. In fact, for your information, they are actually quite independent for their ages. Our 11-month-old crawls to his favorite toys, our 2-year-old goes to the bathroom by himself and our 4-year-old can get his own water and snacks (thanks to my cupboard hack).

But still, they are all 4 years old and under. And so, they need a lot of assistance. Thus, phone convos with me will suck.

4. When I am alone, I donā€™t want to talk.

There is so much talking around me all day long. I explain. I teach. I correct. I encourage. And, I answer impossible questions, like ā€œIs there grass in heaven?ā€

And so, in the rare (very rare) moments that Iā€™m alone, Iā€™m not going to be talking. Iā€™m going to bathing in the luxurious, decadent, rich sound of nothingness. Silence. Quiet. Peace. (Either that or binge on Real Housewives. Either way, please text me.)

This is why I canā€™t call you. Even though I donā€™t have a job outside of wiping butts, making dinner and shaping lives. Iā€™m just a stay-at-home mom who savors silence and whose short-term memory is shoddy at best.

Youā€™re right, I donā€™t have a 9-to-5 job, and Iā€™m not the president.

But I am the boss of three young kids who need a lot of assistance, and I happen to be the appointed official tasked with keeping them alive.

If you want to call me The Queen, thatā€™s fine.

But just do it through text.

And Iā€™ll send a heart-eyed emoji back at ya.

This article was originally published on She Just Glows.