First of all my ED returned from her ski trip yesterday exhausted and moody but safe and happy. Praise the Lord. One kid broke his wrist, poor guy, but everyone else was fine and had fun.
Secondly, we attended a beautiful and awesome wedding this week-end of my dear friend, Stephanie. It was so great to see her and her family. The ceremony was so precious, and we're just so happy for her. Today, however, my feelings for her edge toward envy because I know she's honeymooning in Aruba...
So, in response to some of my brilliant and kind and generous readers, I've decided to check out ol' Erma Bombeck. Now it's not the first time, I read her work voraciously as a 4th grader (I guess God knew he better prepare me for my life while I was young enough to accept it unflinchingly--ha), but it's been a while, like, about thirty or more years. So I picked up a book of her 'best' columns and read it while traveling this week-end. And those of you who have warned me about reading while driving, you'll be happy to know my DH was driving.
As you all probably know, I wrote a weekly column for nearly six years,so I have a real appreciation for coming up with new material every week. I loved what she had to say and especially how she said it. One column really struck me between the eyes. She described the rigors, pressures, and demands of her job as a housewife and mother. btw I loved the way she said housewife and mother PROUDLY like they did back then. Anyway, she said that all the jobs she does in this category could be taught to any trained monkey, probably even the carpool. Hmmm... Of course, I want to debate this fact, but I'm finding it hard. And it's crushing my ego here.
Wash clothes, no doubt. Clean house, no doubt. Prepare breakfast, no doubt. Bathe, monkey would probably be better. Entertainment, monkey probably better. Playing with kids, again, monkey's got me beat. Helping with homework, okay, I get this round. Coaching soccer, monkey? Coaching OM, close call. Driving carpool, with training, monkey. And you know what? The monkey would be better at so many of these things because a lower intelligence level might remove some of the emotionally charged complications of parenting like my sleepless night during the ski trip and arguing with my moody ED or beating myself up over my son's bad haircut. Might the children have less baggage with a monkey mom? Should I seek to be more apelike in my day to day encounters with the children? Perhaps God actually intends for me to handle these tasks more simply, without worry or emotional complication, and it is my humanness that is messing it all up. Let me know what you guys think.
Another penis story because the public demands it. My four-year-old son came downstairs Saturday with the dog. My husband and I were sitting on the sofa, drinking coffee and reading the paper because it was still VERY early (per same child). Anyway, my YS uses one hand to pick up the dog, kind of under his front two paws, so his belly faces us, then with his other hand, he pushes down the front of his pants. He says," Look, I found Max's penis, and mine's longer." Hmmm. Well, there you have it, folks. His first real penis victory. Longer than his dog's (a little twelve pound Boston Terrier, lest you misunderstand)
Have a great day. Donna
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Isabel by Donna Jones Koppelman
Major Bear at the Grove Park Inn by Donna Jones Koppelman
1 comment:
Re the trained monkey. You're supposed to be reading Erma for how she makes her pieces so humorous, you know? However, what you say is true about being a mother. Usually. It was for me. But one thing I've got to tell you: they DO hear and remember a lot of the things you say. When they're grown and you comment on something, they'll likely say, "Well, you told me to." Plenty of hugs and appreciation is mostly what they need, so don't worry. Oh, you already were doing well at all that, weren't you?
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