Mastering a Career

Today was the ordinary day.  I didn't do anything exciting.  I spent the morning putting things back where they belong in my kitchen after Lucy's April Fool pranks.  I didn't fix the leaky garbage disposal or start sanding Mikey's furniture.  I didn't take the car to the garage again for the millionth time or get the dog his rabies shot.  I didn't do any birthday shopping or find out what I need to buy to send to science camp. 
I didn't go to a prestigious office in a business suit or to a hospital in blue scrubs either.  I'm not a professional by the world's standards.  Some days I care about that.  Other days I think, wow, how many moms get to decide the day they find out they are pregnant that they will be home everyday of their child's life?  I am so blessed to have seen every accomplishment and success my son ever had.  I feel like it was such a privilege to be the parent that was "supposed" to be home.  Most of the time I think Keith would have done (still do) a better job at it, but it was given to me on a silver platter--a tarnished one--private joke.  Given to me to struggle with and try to master.  I would've mastered any other job a long time ago.

I don't think I begrudge other women whose path is different than mine.  I do, however begrudge women who think what I'm trying to master isn't enough.  Not long ago, I had an appointment with a doctor who I think is completely smitten with himself and I sat there and thought,  "I'm as smart as you.  I could be where you are if I had chosen it.  Don't talk down to me."  Maybe I have misplaced confidence, but I think that about most professions. 

I know, even in heels,
I wouldn't have the legs.

When I met Keith I had convinced myself it was going to be just me--no man, no kids.  I was going to wear the business suits and carry the calf-skin briefcase.  I was going to work on Madison Ave. in New York City and have an apartment with black lacquer furniture.  After I met him,  there wasn't even a question--husband, and family--way cooler than furniture that shows every fingerprint.

Last week we were in San Jose to visit the Winchester Mystery House and we wandered around a little afterward.  We ended up on the Rodeo Dr. of the Silicon Valley.  We saw career people sipping cocktails after work at the poshest of outdoor restaurants.  I just thought how glad I was not to be one of them.

My work will never be done around this house--inside or out.  I will never get a day without opportunities to screw up being a mom.  I see that with a new appreciation.  I hear things differently now.  I want more days not less.  Not that I didn't always think I had the best job, but there's a difference between believing something and knowing it.