Doing The Deed

Looks like the baby girl is no longer a baby.

The city-girl daughter and I will be heading out on Wednesday for the mad wedding rush. We did another day of dress shopping today and I'm satisfied with my choices. I think the city-girl daughter is happy with hers, also.

Much to the dismay of my salesclerks, there will be no strapless gowns or halter dresses. I believe the mother of the bride should have a certain level of dignity. PUHLEESE!

I've spoken to the bride-to-be about twice a day here lately. I'm thrilled by the turn of events--usually she calls about once every two weeks!!


It's just so hard to comprehend her being at this stage in her life. Marriage is scary--of course, it has always been my experience that the females seem to understand this concept better than the males. (I'm not hatin' on the men. I like men. Why else would I have done this three times already??? I've just never seemed to find one up to the challenge!)

I've encouraged her to "just chill" and let the events unfold.

I'm ready to enjoy this celebration of two individuals sharing their love for one another.

What's Next, You Say?

"The goal of education is the creation and transmission of knowledge — not the creation and transmission of prestige."

I read an interesting article in the New York Times this morning and pulled this perfect-for-what-I-have-noticed quote.

An education is a wonderful thing, indeed. I finished school--finally--because I always felt bad because I hadn't finished. Unfinished business is the worse, don't you think?

It hangs over your head, keeps you up at night and shames you continually.

So I finished this. Hooray!

But never in a million years would I think anyone would be anything but ecstatic. What in the world was I thinking?

That nagging guilt over not finishing what we start, and the shame for not doing what needs to be done or what we know should be done--has transferred to others now.

I'm so sorry. I was obviously only thinking of myself.

Just A Mum?

A woman, renewing her driver's license ,
was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.

"What I mean is,"' explained the recorder,
"do you have a job or are you just a ...?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped the woman.

"I'm a Mum."

'We don't list 'Mum' as an occupation. "Housewife' covers it,"
said the recorder emphatically.


I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, 'Official Interrogator' or 'Town Registrar.'

"What is your occupation?" she probed.

What made me say it? I do not know. The words simply popped out.
"I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair and
looked up as though she had not heard right.

I repeated the title slowly emphasizing the most significant words.
Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written,
in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply,
"I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't)
In the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters, (first the Lord and then the whole family)
and already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities,
(any mother care to disagree?)
and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it).

But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers
and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she
completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3.
Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model,
(a 6 month old baby) in the child development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy!
And I had gone on the official records as someone more
distinguished and indispensable to mankind than 'just another Mum.'

Motherhood!

What a glorious career!

Pop sent me this in an email earlier this week.

Don't Let The Sonofabitches Get You Down

I had a dream the other night.

I dreamt the world was a happy place. No phone calls from long lost friends inquiring about your level of happiness--no worried looks from relatives.

Is there such a place?

We have all learned--at least by our mid twenties--that the world offers constant challenges.

Suck it up and deal with it.

After the last exam on Tuesday evening, the city-girl daughter and I tried our hand at Scrabble.


We're dong much better these days with our wordpower. See the word SEVERE??

She was curious about how we would fare after yet another semester of college.

I wish I had finished school in my twenties. I know now what a difference it would have made in the last 30 years of my life. I am thankful to have finshed at whatever age--but still have this nagging thought in the back of my mind about how it would have altered things.

But still, an accomplishment is an accomplishemnt--and I am thankful for those who realize the effort involved. Thank you for so very much--Momo and Pop.

I spoke to an old friend the other day who told me how proud her children were when she graduated--and how her husband had tears of happiness for her...

I can only imagine how wonderful that must have been for her.

I am graduating Thursday--and then I must test for the Cisco certification (CCNA), Cheeer me on folks. I really need the encouragement. My oldest--the city-girl daughter-just doesn't understand why I am not more confident.

I guess I am just tired...