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Housewife or Mother?

For those of us who are "just a HOUSEWIFE or MOTHER" this is dedicated to all of us! We earned this title and it is very hard work, the rewards may not be monitary, but the emotional ones far outweigh what we are worth, and we all agree with that. This was send to me by a dear friend and I wanted to share it with you.

A few months ago, when I was picking up the children at school, another mother I knew well, rushed up to me.  Emily was fuming with indignation. "Do you know what you and I are?" she demanded.

Before I could answer - and I didn't really have one handy - she blurted out the reason for her question.  It seemed she had just returned from renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office.  Asked by the woman recorder to state her "occupation," Emily had hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

"What I mean is," explained the recorder, "Do you have a job, or are you just a ......?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily.  "I'm a mother."

"We don't list "mother" as an occupation..."housewife" covers it," said the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall.  The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title, like "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"And what is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it, I do not know.  The words simply popped out. "I'm....a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in mid-air, and looked up as though she had not heard right.  I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words.  Then I stared with wonder as my pompous pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"

Cooly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research (what mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters (the whole darned family) and already have four credits (all daughters).

Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it).  But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are in satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants---age 13, 7, and 3.  And upstairs, I could hear our new experimental model (six months) in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt triumphant.  I had scored a beat on bureaucracy.  And I had gone down on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another......"

Home...what a glorious career.  Especially when there's a title on the door.

-Author unknown-

My husband came home today and saw me sitting on the couch, toddler on one knee, and baby nursing on the opposite breast. I was trying to turn the pages of a book with the hand not attached to the infant, while listening for the sound of the stove buzzer, which would indicate that tonight's pork chops were at the stage between "well-done" and "the dog gets tonight's entree."

My husband looked at me innocently, and asked, "So, did you do anything today?"

It's a good thing that most of my appendages were otherwise engaged, as I was unable to jump up and throttle him to death. This was probably for the best, as I assume that asking a stupid question is not grounds for murder in this country.

Let me back up a bit, and explain what led me to this point in my life. I was not always bordering on the brink of insanity. On the contrary, a mere four years ago, I had a good job, steady income, and a vehicle that could NOT seat a professional sports team, and me, comfortably. I watched television shows that were not hosted by singing puppets. I went to bed later than nine o'clock at night. I preferred sex to sleeping in. I laughed at those people who drove halfway across the country hauling a tent trailer, three screaming kids, a drooling dog, and called it a holiday. Now I have become one of them.

What happened? The stick turned blue. I have traded in my Victoria's Secrets lingerie for cotton briefs and a firm support nursing bra. Good-bye, Garth Brooks. Hello, Sharon, Lois and Bram.

My idea of privacy is getting to use the bathroom without a two-year old banging on the door, and the baby spinning the toilet paper roll from my lap.

And I finally understand that the term "Stay At Home Mom" does not refer to a parent who no longer works outside the house, but rather to one who never seems to get out the front door. So here I sit children in hand, wondering how to answer my beloved husband. DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY!

Well, I think I did, although not much seems to have gotten accomplished. I shared breakfast in bed with a handsome young man. Of course, the breakfast consisted of a bowl of porridge and leftover cookie crumbs found between the sheets. The handsome young man is about thirty-four inches tall and only gets really excited at the sight of purple dinosaurs, toy trucks and French fries.

I got to take a relaxing stroll in the woods. Of course I was on the lookout for frogs and lizards, and had to stop to smell the dandelions along the way.

I successfully washed one load of laundry, moved the load that was in the washer into the dryer, and the dryer load into the basket. The load that was in the basket is now spread out on the bed, awaiting my bedtime decision to actually put the clothes away or merely move them to the top of the dresser.

I read two or three classics. Out loud. Of course, Dickens or Shakespeare cannot take credit for these works, as we have moved on to the works of Seuss and Munsch. I don't think I will be making any trips to the Adult Section of my local library anytime soon. In between, I dusted, wiped, organized and rearranged. I kissed away the owies and washed away the tears.

I scolded, praised, hugged and tested my patience, all before noon.

DID I DO ANYTHING TODAY?
You Betcha.

I now understand what people mean when they say that parenthood is the hardest job they will ever have. In my LBD (life before diapers) I was able to teach young minds how to divide fractions and write complex sentences, but I am unable of teaching a strong-willed two-year-old how to use the toilet. I was once able to navigate urban streets while talking on the car phone and looking for a decent radio station, but now I can't get the wheels on my stroller to all go in the same direction. I've graduated from university, written newspaper articles, and won awards, but I can't figure out how to get carrot stains out of the carpet. I used to debate with my friends about politics, but now we discuss the merits of cloth versus disposable. And when did I stop talking in sentences that had more than five words? So in response to my husband's inquiry, yes, I did do something today.

In fact, I am one step closer to one of life's greatest accomplishments.

No, I did not cure AIDS or forge World Peace, but I did hold a miracle in my arms. Two, in fact. My children are my great accomplishment, and the opportunity to raise them in my greatest challenge. I don't know if my children will grow up to be great leaders or world-class brain surgeons.

Frankly, I don't care, as long as they grow up to be happy and fulfilled. They are my greatest joys, even though I sometimes cry myself to sleep at night in frustration.

The point is, that today I got to watch my children take another step on the great journey of Life, and I even got to point out some of the sites along the way. As challenging as parenthood is, it is also equally rewarding, because we are using all our wisdom, our talent and skills to help forge a new person. It is this person, these people, who in turn will use their gifts to create our future. So every nursery rhyme I recite, every swing I push, every little hand I hold is Something. And I did it today.

Does this sound familiar??? Have a terrific day...and remember, you DO make a difference in someone's life.

Unknown

~Things Moms Learn~
I gave you life,
but cannot live it for you.
I can give you directions,
but I cannot be there to lead you.
I can allow you freedom,
but I cannot account for it.
I can teach you right from wrong,
but I cannot decide for you.
I can offer you advice,
but I cannot accept it for you.
I can give you love,
but I cannot force it upon you.
I can teach you to share,
but I cannot make you unselfish.
I can teach you respect,
but I cannot force you to show honor.
I can advise you about friends,
but cannot choose them for you.
I can advise you about sex,
but I cannot keep you pure.
I can tell you about drink,
but I can't say "no" for you.
I can warn you about drugs,
but I can't prevent you from using them. I
can tell you about lofty goals,
but I can't achieve them for you. I
can teach you about kindness,
but I can't force you to be gracious. I
can pray for you,
but I cannot make you walk with God.
I can tell you
how to live,
but I cannot give you eternal life.
~Author unknown~


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