It doesn't help matters that my husband, in a gesture of goodwill towards my mush mind, reminded me that René Descartes declared his existence was based upon his ability to think. ("I think, therefore I am.") This gives me pause for two reasons: First, because most of the time I question if I can, in fact, think. The morning hours especially give me reason to question this as I put the milk in the snack cabinet and the dry goods in the fridge. Secondly, I don't know if I can trust a man who goes by the name René... sounds too girly to me.
But I digress.
Today, in a state of optimistic thinking, I told myself that my repetitive house keeping efforts certainly have merit. I decided to reframe my situation by renaming my efforts into titles that I might find in the world or marketplace. I reason that I will respect my efforts more.
This proved a bit difficult when I was checking out my groceries at Mei*jer today. A particularly lonely cashier gabbed incessantly about her opinions of the president, the safety of baby toys and about how helpful plastic bags can be for using in the bathroom trash. I'm not hatin' on the lonely out there, but I do use the checkout time to add my groceries before hearing the grand total. With careful concentration, I turned down the volume of my chatty friend and determined the sum of my groceries within two dollars. Thoroughly amazed at my abilities, I determined that such mind control is only found in Star Wars episodes. I must be... a Jedi.
Wow, this was getting fun.
Later, I listened to my baby's sounds as she crawled around the house. I noticed that her gibberish turned from a squealish "GLA GLU BLA" to a whispery "as soo foo" tone. (Alert! Alert!) I was able to determine her exact location and that she was about to bring a wad of fuzz to her already open mouth. With such deft hearing, I reasoned that I would make... an excellent bat or, barring that, a Navy Seal.
I mentally went down the list of how many ways I benefit the family:
Appeasing a rowdy playdate crowd with Goldfish crackers: Crowd Control
Feeding the never-full-baby: Sinkhole Management
Turning away youth at my front door (in a nice way) as they try to sell me lame, expensive products: Sandbag Piler
Taking money from my clothing budget and using it for my housewares budget: Chief Financial Officer
Using my index finger to wipe food off my baby's face. Eating said food: Recycling Managment
Using same index finger to scoop non-food out of baby's clamped-shut mouth: Bill Collector
Raiding my daughter's closet to find where the smell is coming from: K-9 Officer
and, finally, using superb phone skills to maneuver through a sticky insurance situation: Bee Keeper
Whew. I feel better about myself already.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a sleeping daughter. My mind-control is telling me to get off the computer. :)
3 comments:
This should be published.
This should be read by mothers the world over.
This is classic Emily - the friend I love and miss and wish I could live next door to.
What a post, Em. Top notch in every way.
Truly top notch. Your mind must be going a mile a minute. Now I know where some of that creativity comes from in that little Morgan of yours.
I was once at a babyshower for a friend of mine who is an engineer. In an effort to comfort her from leaving the work-world to raise her kiddos, they took a bunch of index cards and labled them with different engineering titles. On the back were definitions that fit motherhood. She still has them hanging on her fridge for encouragement. This post reminded me of that -- so creative and so inspiring to remember that our work is *very* important. Even if it does involve copious amounts of laundry and bodily fluids. LOL.
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