So, we are deep in our week of crazy, and we have many tales of travel and stories of sorting. Including one where Super Toddler tries to pack a cat. We'll get to that, but right now Awkward Mom seems to have something else on her mind.
There are 2 questions that I hate. The first one is "What is that smell?" The answer to this is never good and it is never for the faint of heart. The second question that I hate is "What do you do?" The answer to this one is usually messier than the smell question.
The thing is: I am a chef, who specializes in mac-and-cheese-fusion cuisine. I am a doctor whose entire arsenal consists of Sponge-Bob band-aids, Children's Tylenol, and kisses. The latter are surprisingly effective against most bangs, some falls, and 99 variants of cooties. I am a taxi driver with some of the worst fares on record; they control the radio, leave everything sticky, and never tip. I am a hair dresser, costume designer, and a personal assistant of the Tooth Fairy. I am an architect, focused mainly on couch forts, and I have advanced skills in Lego construction. I have powers of persuasion that make politicians blush, and I have toy mediation abilities that make lawyers green with envy. I am a garbage collector, an accountant, and I run my own dry cleaners. My deductive insights into t-shirt stains and whatever that crust is give anyone on CSI a run for their money. As a singer, my talent lies in my enthusiasm rather than in any talent whatsoever, but my improvisations are legendary. (This goes double for my dancing.) I do seasonal work for the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. In my role as a spiritual advisor, I deal with weighty theological questions, such as: are angels holy princesses? And what is Jesus' favorite color? As an artist, I have 2 periods: stick and large flowers. I am a social worker with an encyclopedic knowledge of developmental milestones, and I usually have the wisdom to ignore most of them. I am a maid. I am an actor. I am an event planner who comes armed with innumerable funny voices and wet wipes. I teach spelling, math, basic botany, preliminary physiology, manners, reading, beginning biology, phonics, and all kinds of early education. But if I am being honest, Sesame Street is doing the lion's share of the work on that one. I am a night watchman, who guards some of the most valuable treasures on the planet.
I also have qualifications that are not easily classified. I am fluent in Toddler and Dr. Seuss. My knee can double as a horse. I am immune to most forms of whining. I routinely clean up toxic waste without the benefit of a Hazmat suit. I know how to brush someone else's teeth. I can function on 10 minutes of sleep. I can operate any DVD player or recording device known to man if the end result is Shaun the Sheep and quiet children. I know 9 versions of Cinderella and all the words to Goodnight, Moon. I can open a juice box with one hand, while cleaning a screaming baby's dirty diaper with the other hand, in under a minute, in the backseat of a car, which, let's face it, is much more impressive than anything currently taught at MIT, NASA, and Harvard.
But, my goodness, look at that! It is way too long. My asker would wander away before the second sentence. So, here is what I normally say: "Me? Oh, me. Well, I'm just a stay-at-home mom."
Many hugs and kisses to all of our fellow parents out there! Parenting, and all the smells that come with it, are not for the faint of heart. Much love!