I saw the movie "Julie and Julia" a few months ago and totally felt inspired by it. My first inkling was not to cook but rather to write. I have always wanted to be a writer and I think the internet really lends itself to amateurs looking to get their ideas out in the open. Funny, I have felt so intimidated to do this but some of my FB buddies have inspired me to get my words out. I thank you ladies for sharing your reflections and wisdom.
Here is my first attempt.
A few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to have lunch with my husband. We went to Panera Bread (his favorite...not). Since it was crowded, I held down a table and and asked him to order for me. Because it was me, it wasn't simple for the Panera-challenged. Pick two, baked potato soup Asiago roast beef sandwich, no onions, chips instead of bread and I wanted a soft drink. Poor guy looked at me like I was from another planet. He walked off and then quickly turned around to confirm my order. When he returned, I asked if he got it right. "I used to wait tables, remember?" he asked. And then he said something which caught me off guard. "If I could retire tomorrow, I would totally wait tables again. I loved waiting tables." Um, really? I joked about how we would explain to our son that he couldn't go to college because Daddy left a lucrative career to wait tables.
Of course, I have been thinking a lot about what he said. Why would someone who has admitted to liking his job in corporate America want to leave it to wait tables? My husband has a Master's degree in Electrical Engineering from an Ivy League University. He works for one of the largest corporations in the world. By all accounts, he is pretty successful. But he would leave it tomorrow to be a server. Huh.
What was it about waiting tables made him so happy? It wasn't like he worked in a high end restaurant. He wasn't making a ton in tips. It was the kind of place where people stuck their gum under the table.
I have never quite figured out what I want to be when I grow up. I have a degree in political science because I love politics and enjoy a good debate. I believe in the good of people and have a genuine concern for the welfare of all. But of course, that and a metro pass could get me a ride on the subway.
But I have always known I wanted to be a mother. I value my role as mother and love my son more than I could say. Sometimes I think I suck at this stay at home Mom gig. I am not a cleaner, I don't enjoy discussing Pokemon on end and I certainly am not one to play video games all day long. Ok, well maybe.
Just today, I was watching an Oprah episode I had recorded last week. One of the guests was Stephanie Nielson, a Mommy blogger. For those of you not familiar with Stephanie, she was in a plane crash with her husband and suffered burns on 80% of her body. Her husband also suffered from burns and is credited with saving her life. She pulled through her injuries and was able to return home to her four precious babies. Another mother joined her for a day in the life exercise and she was able to see that there really is something special about all those mundane activities and details.
It got me thinking about the things I take for granted. I have the ability to roll out of bed and shower, etc.. within 30 minutes or so. My skin does not require any special care. I can open all kinds of containers and packaging without assistance. Well, sometimes anyway. If M is in the mood for a pickle or he wants me to make him a grilled cheese sandwich, it isn't a physical hardship. When he wants me to hold him or snuggle with him, I am able to do so. Stephanie struggles with all of these things and can't hold her children. I can't imagine not being able to squeeze M so tight that he complains about not being able to breathe.
Oprah pointed out that there is really something sacred about it all. I am not sure what that means. I do know that I treasure the time I have with M. It has truly been amazing to see him become the boy he is and of course, catching glimpses of the man he is going to become. He certainly has a good role model in my hubby, even if hubby does want to serve burgers.
I am thinking that happiness is really what you make of it. Joy can be found in the most mundane of details, like washing baseball uniforms or sitting at the kitchen table, chaperoning homework time. It is in the hugs, the laughter, tears, and quiet times. Watching Stephanie struggle through her day made me realize that maybe I really am not so bad at this all. Maybe I am where I belong for now. One day this little boy will grow up and won't need me like he does. I hope that he will look back at this all and know that his Mom loved him enough to give her all. I can't make cute looking cupcakes, I don't sew costumes. I still don't understand Pokemon and I suck at following Lego directions. But I can make a mean grilled cheese sandwich. I love to play board games. When we read books together, I rock at the voices. And yes, I always make sure there are clean underwear and socks in the house. I guess that is my happiness.
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