Wait...back the bus up. Did I just refer to myself in the past tense as "young"? At thirty-three can't I still refer to myself as young? Let me begin my post again...
As a young"er" mom and wife, I can recall waking up in the morning and looking around at the daunting tasks ahead of me. And feeling defeated before I even began. It just always seemed like the "to do" list never ended. Just as soon as I would clean up one mess, there lie more awaiting my attention. That's just the way life is as a stay at home mom/wife/chef/teacher/seamstress/secretary/laundromat/nurse/psychiatrist/cleaner/etc. I used to be a little bit bitter about that fact.
Okay, let's be honest.
I used to be a lot bitter about that fact.
And then I chose to see things from a different perspective. Turns out, it's all just job security. The cluttered breakfast table, unmade beds, tangled hair, endless supply of used pool towels (and wet bathing suits on the floor), facial hairs in the sink, toilets unflushed, dust bunnies under the couch, toothpaste all over the mirror (how does it get there, anyhow?), warts to treat, trash cans full and flooding to the floor, and an abundant and always fresh supply of grass throughout the house. (That last one really tends to drive me ballistic periodically. How much grass can one vacuum cleaner hold?) It's all job security.
Oh, yeah...they so need me.
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