A Degree in Parenting

Did I spend long hours and countless dollars earning a college degree to prepare for making homemade baby food?  Did I spend weeks, months, and years studying statistics, psychotropic medicines, and 19th-century American poets so I could read Goodnight Moon a thousand times to a two-year-old?  Did I work fifteen years, trudging my way to management so I could negotiate potty time with a power-hungry toddler?  Did I walk away from a salary, title, and freedom to wipe sticky noses?

Turns out I did.  Seminars on Dealing with Difficult People are perfectly suited to the stubborn toddler. Sharp organization skills make for an efficient home. I don’t budget millions of dollars or compete for high-dollar contracts anymore, but I stay on top of the family checkbook and clip a few coupons these days.  Hours of research I did on breastfeeding, nutrition, childhood sleep patterns, vaccinations, and infant brain development remind me of late hours at the office with the cleaning crew giving funny looks because I was interfering with their routine of privacy.

My husband is CEO and I’m the Operations Manager and our board of directors consists of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Accountabilities are high!  Countless experiences firing incompetent staff, however, seem very appealing when the family is not cooperating with my 5-year plan.  But then again, they can’t fire me either!

I used to dream about quitting my job to be a stay-at-home mother.  I envisioned a perfectly weeded garden stocked with cucumbers, carrots, and squash.  Me in a floppy hat picking fresh green beans. My “young’uns” playing in the sunshine nearby.  Then I would wake up and look around at my friends.  Many of them had aged rapidly since the onset of parenthood.  Then I began to get scared and wondered who I would be if I wasn’t “Director of So and So” anymore.

My husband reassured me that I would be an excellent Mother.  This is why he married me, he said.  I wasn’t so sure.  Men usually get to add Father to their resume without giving up the old titles.  Other women tell me that while motherhood may require you give up the titles, you get to keep all the jobs.  And eventually, you learn to live with the fatigue.

So here I am, President of Home.  It’s just like when I first entered the workforce and I had so much to learn.  It’s exactly like that.  I’m starting over.  Well, now that I’ve figured that out I feel so much better.  I hope my family can survive the training period.  I’ve heard it could last well over 18 years!

The Autumn of My Year

It is starting to feel like the end of Summer now. The cicadas sing their shrill music in the tree tops, vibrating in synchronized melody. It feels like I have been sleep walking through most of this year. First with my Mother's sudden death, then my Aunt's longer passage. So I take a breath, lean my shoulders forward and push into the next years of my life, changed by the experience but determined to live well in the time I have with my own children.

Autumn seems to be as good a time as any to put some things to rest. There has been time to cry, pray, and remember. Now I lift my eyes and look forward. I cannot see what is ahead. None of us can! But I have hope. Hope that is seen is not hope. We walk by faith, not by sight.

I started this blog because I love to write. But mostly I love to write satire. I prefer to focus on the irony of life, the part that can be so comical at times. Unfortunately, this year has offered few opportunities for that. Instead it has offered little laughter, much grief, and circumstance for reflection. Growth is good, but we are all due for a healthy dose of joy. Perhaps I am ready to write again.