FOR ALL MOTHERS12:35 Jul 27 2007
Times Read: 893
My mother's friend was renewing her driver's license at the Transport office and was asked by the clerk to state her occupation.
She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"What I mean is," explained the clerk, "do you have a job, or are you just a ......?
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a Mum."
"We don't list 'Mum' as an occupation...... 'Housewife' covers it," said the clerk emphatically.
My mother went on to say that she forgot all about her friends story until one day she found myself in the same situation, this time at our local police station.
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 her 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, pen frozen in mid air, and looked up as though she had not heard right.
She repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words.
Then she stared with wonder as her 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 her voice, she heard herself reply, "I have a continuing programme of research, (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally she would have said
indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (the whole bloody family), and already have three credits, (all sons). 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 more of a satisfaction rather than just money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the girl's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered her to the door.
When she got home, buoyed up by her glamorous new career, she was greeted by her lab assistants -- ages 7 and 5. Upstairs, she could hear their new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby -- ME), in the child-development programme, testing out a new vocal pattern.
She felt she had triumphed over bureaucracy!
And had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mum."
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".
MY RESIGNATION
22:23 Jul 20 2007
Times Read: 906
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old again.
I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.
I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.
I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.
I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.
I want to return to a time when life was simple, when all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care. All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.
I want to think the world is fair.
That everyone is honest and good.
I want to believe that anything is possible.
I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.
I want to live simple again.
I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to
survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.
I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.
So . . . here's my checkbook and my car keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements. I am officially resigning from adulthood.
And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to catch me first, cause........
..."Tag! You're it."
Rambling on again
21:39 Jul 20 2007
Times Read: 907
"The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lay too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it.
That's the worst, I think, when a secret stays locked within, not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear."
MY RAMBLINGS
18:53 Jul 19 2007
Times Read: 913
I can't think of a single reason why I should be alive. I can think of a thousand reasons why I should quit. They, people, make it hard on purpose... there are lives in our hands, our responsilabilites, my furies. There comes a moment when it's more than just a game, life that is., and you either take that step forward or turn around and walk away. I could quit but here's the thing, I love the living.
At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That's how we're made. So, you can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them. But there are some lines... that are way too dangerous to cross.
You know how when you were a little kid and you believed in fairy tales, that fantasy of what your life would be, I knew this girl, she dreamed of a white dress, prince charming who would carry her away to a castle on a hill. You would lie in bed at night and close your eyes and you had complete and utter faith. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, Prince Charming, they were so close you could taste them, but eventually you grow up, one day you open your eyes and the fairy tale disappears. Most people turn to the things and people they can trust. But the thing is its hard to let go of that fairy tale entirely cause almost everyone has that smallest bit of hope, of faith, that one day they will open their eyes and it will come true.
At the end of the day faith is a funny thing. It turns up when you don't really expect it. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be slightly different than you dreamed. The castle, well, it may not be a castle. And it's not so important happy ever after, just that its happy right now. See once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you , and once in a while people may even take your breath away.
A couple of hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. Never leave that till tomorrow, he said, which you can do today. This is the man who discovered electricity. You think more people would listen to what he had to say. I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I'd have to say it has a lot to do with fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, sometimes the fear is just of making a decision, because what if you're wrong? What if you're making a mistake you can't undo? The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost.
We can't pretend we hadn't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin really meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beat the hell out of never trying.
Maybe we like the pain. Maybe we're wired that way. Because without it, I don't know; maybe we just wouldn't feel real. What's that saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.
I've heard that it's possible to grow up - I've just never met anyone who's actually done it. Without parents to defy, we break the rules we make for ourselves. We throw tantrums when things don't go our way, we whisper secrets with our best friends in the dark, we look for comfort where we can find it, and we hope - against all logic, against all experience. Like children, we never give up hope...
If you knew this was your last day on Earth, how would you wanna spend it?
Sometimes reality has a way of sneaking up and biting us in the ass. And when the dam bursts, all you can do is swim. The world of pretend is a cage, not a cocoon. We can only lie to ourselves for so long. We are tired, we are scared, denying it doesn't change the truth. Sooner or later we have to put aside our denial and face the world. Head on, guns blazing. De Nile. It's not just a river in Egypt, it's a freakin' ocean. So how do you keep from drowning in it?
I have an aunt who whenever she poured anything for you she would say "Say when". My aunt would say "Say when" and of course, we never did. We don't say when because there's something about the possibility, of more. More tequila, more love, more anything. More is better.
There's something to be said about a glass half full. About knowing when to say when. I think it's a floating line. A barometer of need and desire. It's entirely up to the individual. And depends on what's being poured. Sometimes all we want is a taste. Other times there's no such thing as enough, the glass is bottomless. And all we want, is more
Maybe we're not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we're thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we're thankful for the things we'll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate.
At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about. Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they're what you do. Some things you say cause there's no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.
When you were a kid, it was Halloween candy. You hid it from your parents and you ate it until you got sick. In college, it was the heavy combo of youth, tequila and well, you know. As a grown up, you take as much of the good as you can get because it doesn't come around nearly as often as it should. 'Cause good things aren't always what they seem. Too much of anything, even love, is not always a good thing.
How do you know when how much is too much? Too much too soon. Too much information. Too much fun. Too much love. Too much to ask... And when is it all just too much to bear?
COMMENTS
-