Just a Mom

Here's a copy of an email a good friend of mine forwarded to me. I loved it, and can certainly see why she thought to send it to me. Proud to be a SAHM.


JUST A MOM?
A woman, renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk 'S office
Was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.
She 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 the woman.
"I'm a Mom"
"We don't list 'Mom' 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."
"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 midair 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 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?"
Coolly, 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, (first the Lord and then the whole 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 re more of a 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 -- ages 13, 7, and 3.
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,
(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program,
Testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and ndispensable to mankind than
"just another Mom." Motherhood!
What a glorious career!
Especially when there's a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers
"Senior Research associates in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations"
And great grandmothers
"Executive Senior Research Associates"?
I think so!!!
I also think it makes Aunts
"Associate Research Assistants".

Please send this to another Mom,
Grandmother,
Aunt,

And other friends you know.
May your troubles be less,
Your blessings be more
And nothing but happiness come through your door,
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

My House

One step at a time. That's what my mother used to tell me as I was growing up, especially when I had some anxieties or challanges ahead of me. My anxieties these days, more often than not surround the health and well being of my family, and into that comes my house -- my home. Oh gosh, how it consumes my daily worries. The clutter is endless the pet hair is insurmountable, not to mention the laundry and paring of odd socks.

This is not the first and I have no doubt it will not be the last entry I write about my house, my home -- after all it is where I live, sleep, work and entertain. But folks, I believe or rather I hope that I have turned a corner and reached a new reality where I will be a little less cluttered and little less overwhelmed with the daily grind of it all.

Yes Sir, things are looking up. To begin, I no longer have to climb over clutter to get in and out of bed. That's got to be a good thing. I am also the proud owner of two new slip covered footstools for the living room that not only can I rest my tired feet on at the end of the day, but I can also stow away the kids toys.

IKEA, that is where I spent my weekend. On Saturday I was browsing their catalogue looking for solutions to hide and minimize our clutter and on Sunday I was at one of their stores selecting the perfect species of footstool. Here is a picture of our new footstools. I sure hope they (we got two of them) help with the clutter.

Eleven months and some

I never meant to leave my post, but I guess I just got swept along by the tide of life.

Some quick updates reference my last few posts -:

England was fantastic. Better than I could have planned and definitely something I would do again, in a heartbeat.

I passed the CBEST (first attempt too!)

I'm still cooking (a few nights a week) and have purchased two new cookbooks which I love and will blog about them on another date.

I officially graduated from CSULB. Finally!

Maggie has started swimming lessons and loves it. Loves it, loves it. Loves it.

Ryan started walking a few weeks ago now and fills my eyes with tears of joy on a daily basis. No longer a baby, not quite a boy.

And my current concerns are...
Researching and preparing Maggie for kindergaten, encouraging Ryan to talk and eat something other than apples, grapes, crackers and grahams and trying to figure out how to turn my house into a home -- free of clutter, dust bunnies and odd socks.

Maggie's Song

After a wonderful playful day of walking around San Diego Zoo which I will post about at a later date, we all stopped for dinner before our one hundred mile drive back home. While we were waiting for our dinner to come to the table, Maggie made up this song.

Slippery Fish, Slippery Fish, Slippery Fish, Swimming in the water,
Slippery Fish , Slippery Fish, Slippery Fish, Swimming in the water.
Gulp, gulp -- gulp, gulp.
Oh No!
A Shark ate the Fish.

Slippery Shark, Slippery Shark, Slippery Shark, swimming in the water,
Slippery Shark, Slippery Shark, Slippery Shark, swimming in the water.
Gulp, gulp -- gulp, gulp.
Oh No!
Octopus ate the Shark.

Slippery Octopus, Slippery Octopus, Slippery Octopus, swimming in the water,
Slippery Octopus, Slippery Octopus, Slippery Octopus, swimming in the water.
Gulp, gulp -- gulp, gulp.
Oh no!
Dolphin ate the Octopus.

I cannot begin to tell you all how cute this was. You could see her mind ticking away thinking of what to "sing" next. I'm going to be checking with her pre-school to see if this resembles anything she learned there, but as far as Eric and I could tell this was a "Maggie Original". She even had little hand movements to go along with it.

Flights Booked for England

Call me crazy, but I have recently booked flights for England. I will be flying out in the height of the summer travel season with an almost one year old and a four year old, on my own. Thankfully I will have Eric with me for the trip back, the most gruelling of the two trans-Atlantic flights.

As I've mentioned in previous blogs, I have been feeling the need to spend some time in England with family and friends to reconnect at a level which goes beyond, "hey how are you?" and "What's the weather like?" I will be in England from the 31st July to the 18th August, a little over two weeks. While I'm there a great Aunt will be turning 85 and a surprise birthday party is being held in her honor. It will be a family reunions of sorts. I am quite excited about this opportunity as I will get to meet some family members that I haven't seen since I was a small child. There will be children running around for Maggie and Ryan to interact with which I imagine will be a bit of a cultural immersion experience for them. I get really excited when I think about this.

Then I start to think about the reality of being away from my home comforts. Two weeks in a different time zone, with two young children and away from my home comforts may quickly begin to feel like an eternity. I am very glad and excited to be giving my parents and children some unparalleled time together, time which I hope will become encased childhood memories of laughter and smiles. I'm wondering though. How realistic am I being? Do I have flighty dreams of fancy or can a good time be had by all? The stakes feel pretty high to me. High expectation often lead to disappointments. Is is worth the gamble? Absolutely. If only one day out of the 18 something days I'm in England, it will be worth it.

The Forty-Two Dollar Tank Top

It's been a crazy week and today was no exception. While Eric worked on putting an office in our garage I took the kids off to "Fashion Island" in Newport Beach. Though I don't exactly have the purse strings (or much in the way of fashion sense) to shop at Fashion Island it is a wonderful place to take the kids. Maggie particularly enjoys the Koy fish at the Koy pond and the variety of water displays not to mention the carousel.

To spare you the details of what it takes to get a seven month old and a three and half year old on any kind of outing, I'll give you one little highlight. The Forty-Two Dollar Tank Top.

The Forty-To Dollar Tank Top was a bright sunshine yellow and oh so soft. It had delicate black edging and a wonderful picture of a tall and slinky Siamese looking cat sitting with his nose in the air. Bordered around the picture were the printed words, "I'm trouble" or something to that effect. Maggie picked it off the racks and instantly fell in love with it. The fact that Maggie showed an interest in it was quite surprising as she's not your girly girl and is usually easily amused with her own repertoire of imaginary animals.

I casually checked out the price tag. Yes, someone out there came out with the brilliant and profitable idea of charging forty-two dollars for a yellow tank top that would only fit a very slender three footer whose favorite pastime is imitating animals, blowing bubbles and eating pancakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I admired the tee-shirt with Maggie and lightly discussed the wonderful color yellow and the adorable picture of the cat. Maggie requests a "try on " and I decline. There's an outburst of protest from Maggie.

Maggie must have really loved the tank top. She let me and the whole store know it too.

Maggie: No. I don't want to give it back to you.
Me: Why Maggie?
Maggie: Because I want to try it on. I don't want you to put it back.
Me: Maggie that's a lovely tank top but we're not buying it. It's forty- two dollars. We can buy five tank tops for this yellow one.
Maggie:(pause and thoughtful expression) But I want to try it on.
Me: Maggie, I can see you like that tank top very much but it's time to put it back.
Maggie: No I don't want to (who then sits on it, falling into the even more expensive rack of dresses behind her).

Thankfully, I manage to keep my resolve. Ryan obligingly sat in his peanut shell sling, checking out the bright lights of the store, while I persuaded Maggie to hand over the tank top by suggesting we take a look at the bunny-rabits in the next store -- but not before she apologized for behavior to the store's owner. When I saw Maggie approach the lady and give a sincere apology for screaming in her store I felt a valuable lesson had been learned by both of us. I reaped the reward of remaining calm and not being affected by the other customers (aka other parents)and Maggie learned how a forty-two-dollar tank top is just not worth the drama.

cbest

i've just committed to taking the cbest exam in april. it's scary and exciting at the same time. i don't know for sure that i want to teach but decided a step in that direction doesn't hurt anyone and it might even be very beneficial. i've got to gem up on my high-school math and refine my exam taking skills. right now, i'm ready for bed -- i'll take on the algebra another night.