There are many women parading around Los Angeles who have the enviable job of part-time moms (referred to herein as “PTMs”). These mommies do not work in the traditional sense and have fulltime nannies and housekeepers (or a combination thereof) who cook, clean, chauffer their children to school, take them on play dates, to the park, and extra-curricular activities, while these women talk on their cell phones, go to the gym, “do lunch,” go shopping, and run errands. Being a fulltime mom is an exhausting job and I envy these women who have been able to finagle a way to turn it into a part-time job.

Yes, I am unabashedly jealous.

Sure, the PTMs successful husbands may not be around as much as mine is. Sure, PTMs do not have the intellectual “rewards” of a real career. Many of these women do volunteer work, if they so desire. PTMs call the shots. They chose what they want to do, when they want to do it, and since they are not reliant on the almighty paycheck, they are also empowered to decide if they do not want to do anything at all besides sipping lattes and going to pilates.

Oh, what I would do for the time and money to do pilates or any type of exercise for that matter. Or to enjoy a leisurely latte. My Starbucks sessions consist of quickly gulping down liquid caffeine for a mandatory refueling of adrenaline to keep me from passing out.

Xanax will do that to you.

I want to be a PTM. I want to chose which child I can accompany with me to various activities and leave the other one at home where he can nap and stay happy by sticking to his or her normal routine. I want to spend more individual time with my kids. I want to be the one who goes on play dates or the park, if and only if I feel like it.

I want to be a PTM. I would rather not drag my two screaming kids to the supermarket and then figure out how to unload them and a cart full of groceries up a flight of stairs back into our condominium, unassisted.

I want to be a PTM. I have been warned by my husband who wants his successful wife to remain eternally employed that I would have no paid help if I did not work full-time. Instead, I am a full time employee and a part-time mom on the side. Yes, my kids have a nanny, but she is not a luxury. She is an essential caregiver for my children who knows that I need her in order for me to work. My children both have asthma and get sick if someone in the next room sneezes, so the more affordable option of daycare is simply not an option. Furthermore, my son’s heart condition and the must-be refrigerated medication he takes at precise eight hour intervals make day care a complete impossibility. I pay an arm and a leg for a nanny, the most recent of whom, after two weeks on the job, has told me she is exhausted and will no longer do “light housekeeping” as part of her job responsibilities. So I will now have to hire a once-a-week housekeeper in order to keep my full-time nanny happy. Who’s the boss? I digress.

When I get home from work and the changing of the guard with Nanny ensues, I quickly switch gears into full-time mom mode. My kids are at their worst… tired, whiny, pissed at me for being gone all day, and needing to be quickly fed, bathed and loved before they melt-down completely. This all happens before husband comes home from work. He is gone from 7:30 a.m. – 6:30 p.m. He misses all of the fun.

I want to be a PTM. I want quality time with my kids and I also want quality time with myself.

I need a wife.