I AM NOT BORING. Yet, I've found that people assume that most domestic engineers (I refuse to call myself a stay-at-home-mom; I'm in the mini-van way too much) are judged to be dull as dishwater, capable only of discussing poop texture and the best way to get apple juice stains out of the carpet, or perhaps give a dissertation on the subtle differences between the Sesame Street muppets (can YOU tell Zoe from Rosita? But I digress).
In a world where "What do you do?" is the second most asked question after "What's your name?" it's hard out there for us moms. Even our partners can wonder what we do all day. I actually had a man at a party start looking over my shoulder for someone else to talk to after I told him I was largely a child-rearing specialist at the moment. WTH, as they say on the interwebs? I'm interesting, dammit!
And pretty sharp, too, don't doubt it. I haven't lost any IQ points since I hung up (albeit temporarily) my Licensed Professional hat. Because home and family management, my dears, requires a lot of brains and general wiliness. Here's just a sampling of the liberal education required of a parent whose primary job is on the domestic front:
Math. Helping with homework will require you dust off that part of your brain that once knew long division, how to "borrow" in subtraction, and how to use the metric system. Brush up on fractions (helpful not only in homework but also in the exact division of food between siblings to avoid bloodshed. Ever cut a sandwich in half and then cut the other kid's sandwich into quarters only to have the first kid scream Hey he's got more sandwich than me!!!?). Your math skills will also come in handy as you calculate how to feed five people for a week armed only with a twenty dollar bill and a fistful of coupons.
Chemistry. You will need to know the science of cleaning solutions, the many applications of bleach, and what products will clean or destroy marble, ceramics, wood, porcelain, and glass. You will learn the subtle differences between detergents, fabric softeners, color catchers, and dryer sheets. You will be an expert on medicine: fever reducers, stool softeners, mucus reducers, vitamins, and available allergy meds both prescribed and over the counter. You will need the precision of a pediatric nurse in dispensing these meds. You will require an honorary degree in nutrition.
Language arts. Spending the majority of your time with young people will require the debate skills of a criminal defense attorney. You will be called upon to spell and define any word in the English language off the top of your head. You will use persuasive skills you never knew you had in the pursuit of convincing your children that clothes are, indeed, an excellent gift, brushing your teeth daily is not optional, and that no, shooting bottle rockets at the dog is ill-advised at best.
Art. You will: paint with fingers, brushes, and sponges. You will crayon, mark, chalk, sticker, glue, fold, assemble. You will stamp, inexplicably, with not only rubber stamps but fruits and vegetables. You will make mosaics, mold. And you will spend more time cleaning up after art than your charges will spend making the art. You must possess the story-telling prowess of a Brother Grimm.
Kinesthetics. Otherwise known as physical education. You will run, chase, and do more squatting than an Occupy rally. You will do 45-pound toddler curls when your kid goes all Gandhi on you and you've got to take him limp and screaming out of a retail establishment or restaurant. You will take punches to the head and privates frequently and become adroit at avoiding head butts. You will wrestle children in and out of clothes and the bathtub. You oughta see my guns.
Theology and philosophy. You will be required to answer questions scholars have debated since the dawn of time, including but not limited to who, what, and where God is; details about Heaven's exact location and whether or not your child's stuffed animals will go there; and why so many different people will give him different answers to these questions. You will need to be ready to explain why bad things happen, why other kids can be mean, what "dead" means, and why little boys can't marry their mother.
I could go on. My point? I do have one: the next time you dismiss someone (or yourself) as "just a mom," or "just staying home," remember: life it about finding your values and a way to use these values to have an impact on the world. I may still be wearing maternity panties when my oldest is four, sure, but don't mistake my yoga pants or yogurt stains for stupid or lazy. Pat yourself on the back: parenting may be boring, dirty, and exhausting...but always know if you're doing it well, you are in the service industry for the world. Not too shabby for just a mom.
