I had the amazing opportunity to attend my daughter's bridal shower, given by her stepmother. The day couldn't have been more perfect for a party on the deck of their amazing home. Rhiannon was showered with gifts, all of them lovely, tasteful, useful, and welcomed. Rhiannon was a gracious bride, the games were fun, and the refreshments were delicious.
While at the shower, I had the chance to become acquainted with my children's step-aunts, of whom I have heard much. The three sisters are physician, attorney, and IT project manager at Boeing. I find people so interesting, and these women didn't let me down. Again, as always, I came to the point where I was asked the age-old question, "So, what do you do?"
What is it that I really do? I could write out a veritable laundry list of what I do every day, and it is a lot! So many things interest me, and one of the luxuries I have is pursuing these things on a daily basis. Another thing I do is keep house, though not very seriously, nor well. We generally always have clean clothes, an empty kitchen sink, and can see the floor in most rooms. Ah, yes, and cannot smell the bathrooms (in that yucky way) from anywhere in the house. I prepare meals from scratch the majority of the days of the week. And, of course, I parent this 16-year-old child of mine who has had his share of life's drama.
One thing I do, sometimes, when questioned about what it is I do, is talk about the work I do as a volunteer. That opens all kinds of doors to conversation, and puts me on more of a level playing field with someone who works in "the world." But, actually, comparing my 5 hours a week to their horrible commute, 40+ hours of money-making, upwardly mobile rat race doesn't quite feel authentic or fair, either.
When I answer that always-asked question about what I do, I say, "I am at home," and the conversation pretty much comes to an end. There is no mention of community service, or master's degree, or intensive daily study of whatever I am studying right now. Or writing. My former social work and incredible commute don't come up. No one discusses the cool vegetable garden I carved out of the weed patch in my front yard, or the laying hens I adopted, both of which help my family be self sufficient and eat locally. The topic of my court-involved addicted son never sees the light of day. And fresh-ground whole grain homemade bread and the joys of thrift store shopping? Come on.
I don't need to justify my life to anyone--except maybe my husband, but he doesn't ask for that. I have value as a human being and contributing member of society, whether people get me or not. My way of living is the best way for me, right now. And that's all I have time for today, because the buzzer is going off and I have to get my sourdough biscuits out of the oven.
While at the shower, I had the chance to become acquainted with my children's step-aunts, of whom I have heard much. The three sisters are physician, attorney, and IT project manager at Boeing. I find people so interesting, and these women didn't let me down. Again, as always, I came to the point where I was asked the age-old question, "So, what do you do?"
What is it that I really do? I could write out a veritable laundry list of what I do every day, and it is a lot! So many things interest me, and one of the luxuries I have is pursuing these things on a daily basis. Another thing I do is keep house, though not very seriously, nor well. We generally always have clean clothes, an empty kitchen sink, and can see the floor in most rooms. Ah, yes, and cannot smell the bathrooms (in that yucky way) from anywhere in the house. I prepare meals from scratch the majority of the days of the week. And, of course, I parent this 16-year-old child of mine who has had his share of life's drama.
One thing I do, sometimes, when questioned about what it is I do, is talk about the work I do as a volunteer. That opens all kinds of doors to conversation, and puts me on more of a level playing field with someone who works in "the world." But, actually, comparing my 5 hours a week to their horrible commute, 40+ hours of money-making, upwardly mobile rat race doesn't quite feel authentic or fair, either.
When I answer that always-asked question about what I do, I say, "I am at home," and the conversation pretty much comes to an end. There is no mention of community service, or master's degree, or intensive daily study of whatever I am studying right now. Or writing. My former social work and incredible commute don't come up. No one discusses the cool vegetable garden I carved out of the weed patch in my front yard, or the laying hens I adopted, both of which help my family be self sufficient and eat locally. The topic of my court-involved addicted son never sees the light of day. And fresh-ground whole grain homemade bread and the joys of thrift store shopping? Come on.
I don't need to justify my life to anyone--except maybe my husband, but he doesn't ask for that. I have value as a human being and contributing member of society, whether people get me or not. My way of living is the best way for me, right now. And that's all I have time for today, because the buzzer is going off and I have to get my sourdough biscuits out of the oven.
2 comments:
While impressed with your children's step-aunt's accomplishments, I still think I would find you much more interesting. I admire a person that places high value on a clean bathroom, egg laying hens, and the abilty to find simple pleasure in learning new things and helping others.
Presently "in the world," which is ridiculous because an elementary school is nothing like a "real world," I am sometimes asked how long I've been teaching.
If I don't feel like striving with that person, that day, I say, "36 years.' which is accurate.
If I do feel energetic, I say, "This is year 5."
Then I get an incredulous stare, because I am obviously not 27ish. Next comes, "This is a second career for me."
Then, "So, what was your first career?"
"Homemaker and bringing up my children."
Sometimes they all move away from me on the Group W bench then, but the ones whose countenances don't slam shut are the ones whom I know I can have meaningful exchange with in future. It takes courage and discernment to know what to value in a time when values are askew.
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