So I’m working again. Not to insinuate that I haven’t been working for the past 2.5 years. Being a full time Mommy is the hardest job ever. Being Everybody’s Boys’ Mommy is in a league all of its own.
I’ve also tried very hard to immerse myself in the community, to network and volunteer wherever possible. It kept me current in my work and it gave me that unique satisfaction you get when you are really good at something.
Though clearly all of this was not challenging enough for me. With the countless minutes of free time I was squandering, I just knew I could be more productive.
No, not really. It just turns out that my awesome husband was laid off because of some merger/acquisition “whatever” and he’s just too bomb-tastic for the jobs he’s been applying for so far. And the grim reality is that at this point it’s necessary for us to work towards being a two income family again.
For now, however, it’s just me working. It’s so weird. I don’t know why the work has come, but I’m grateful. I hope that I’m not letting anyone down when they realize that I’m more adept at cleaning poop out of the creases in wallpaper (oxyclean, toothbrush, and barf bag, by the way).
There’s an element of responsibility that earning money brings with it that makes me uncomfortable.
Because responsibility is for grown ups.
I am not a grown up. I eat Pixie Sticks for dinner, overdraw my checking account at least every two weeks, splash in puddles, and get all a good bit of my “news” from US Weekly.
I’ve never cleaned behind the refrigerator. I don’t cook. Ever. Unless you want vegetarian beanie-weenies, which no one ever wants (besides me). I only just started listening to NPR in 2008.
I don’t even like coffee. All respectable Public Relations professionals like coffee.
Do you know how awkward meetings at Starbucks are?
What I do have though, besides my fading good looks, is life experience. I’ve had some amazing and unique opportunities in my 32 years. I’ve dealt with some big disappointments and loss too. Stuff that many people live lifetimes without facing, even indirectly.
My real world experiences, combined with a hint of naivete, a belief that people are inherently good (except Dick Cheney, of course) and a healthy dose of stubbornness provide a unique and pliable perspective.
I don’t think in absolutes. I know that there is no black and white. That ultimately we live in shades of grey. I’ve been rich, I’ve been poor. I’ve helped and I’ve been helped. I’ve given and I’ve received. I’ve loved and lost.
So maybe that makes me more grown up than I think.
Maybe next time I find myself at Starbucks, I’ll order a half-caff double latte anyway.