Husband-ism that kills me

Tom is in charge of lining up speakers for our church for July. He told one good sister that he couldn’t remember when she’d spoken last, and she kindly reminded him that she’d spoken on Father’s Day (three weeks ago).

Tom called me after church today to ask if he was there that Sunday and/or if I knew why he couldn’t remember her speaking. I reminded him that that was the day that Lucy was sick and so he was wrestling both Avery and Callie during the service. Apparently it’s hard to pay attention when you’re in charge of two (or three) kids.

In other news, Tom is missing us excruciatingly and counting the days until he joins us. He feels, quite frankly, that an important part of himself (one might even say the best part) is absent. Callie has realized that daddy isn’t just “at work,” and said today, “I want my daddy.” Me too.

Are you working?

The other day I was at a playgroup when a mother of three who works as a physical therapist asked me that searching philosophical question: “Are you working?” Okay, okay, I know she probably didn’t mean it as an opening salvo in the mommy wars. She just wanted to know if I get paid for a job I do outside my home. Or maybe a paycheck for a job I do inside my home would count too? Or if my husband and children paid me for what I do? Can I bring myself to quit the field, say “No, I’m not working,” and leave it at that? Apparently not.

Are you working?
No, I’m just…

Producing more milk than a Jersey cow
Stimulating the minds of extremely brilliant, one-might-even-say-gifted (if one were the bragging sort) children through constant activity and meaningful interaction.
Shopping for enough food to stuff the faces of 5 people every 3 hours
Changing 11 diapers, 2-3 of them poopy, 1-2 of them toxic
Reading Dr. Seuss over and over till I dream of green eggs and ham
Driving a (very small but very loud) band of hooligans to the mall, the Y, the park, the beach, the library, the zoo, and Busch Gardens
Turning neon Mac & Cheese into a gourmet feast with peas and wieners
Smelling one too many pairs of stinky panties while trying to separate the laundry
Keeping a smallish house relatively clean (not in-law-drop-in-worthy every day, just enough-to-fool-husband-that-I’ve-been-extremely-busy-all-day)
Reading, writing, blogging, thinking (ask Thoreau: this takes a lot of energy).
Nodding supportively to husband in appropriate places during extremely thought-provoking conversations
Running miles upon miles to retain (regain?) my girlish figure lost through 3 1/2 pregnancies and too many brownies to count
IM’ing and emailing people of the highest character about earth-shattering items of national significance (other stay-at-home moms about the (non)progress our toddlers are making in potty-training).
Or, as I tell my husband on those rare days that he badly phrases a question and I answer in kind:

(Tom): Are you doing anything today?
(Me): No. I thought I’d lie on the couch all day and watch some soaps.

The Life of a Busy Mom