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I fed my soul yesterday and today I am unreasonably pleased with this print by Milenko Katic’ that I purchased at the Alexandria King Street Art Festival.

The expression on Woman, Birds and Cage endeared me as well. I hope to see Mr. Katic’s work again in person so maybe I can add her to my collection.

I’ve heard that CEOs and other corporate big guns have specific sets of skills to make their businesses run smoothly and successfully. They get big paychecks and bonuses. They get to tell people what to do and it gets done — no sass, no backtalk (not in earshot, anyway). They get to shower every day and have a regular meal around noon or so. They even get a minimum of two weeks where they don’t have to even show up for their job and still get paid for it.
 
CEOs and other executive types, however, don’t have to adjust their skillset on an almost daily, sometimes hourly basis. They don’t arrive at the office first thing in the morning and have to deal with an employee’s tantrum. Not usually, anyway. And if they do it’ll be a one-time—two times tops—kind of thing. They get to have full conversations—in one sitting!—without having to wipe a nose or excuse themselves to investigate that crash in the other room.
 
Stay at home moms? The skills you employ change daily, hourly, by the minute.

Sure you can discipline your charges, but only for one minute of every year they’ve been around.  You can write them up. (Dear Santa: Can we talk about your Naughty List for a moment?) You provide a generous income (Cheerio nibblies, healthy meals, a place to lay their heads — with bars all around, but whatever). Other than poop, drool and the occasional shriek, though, they produce nothin’.

The thing is, in no other occupation do you get jam-sticky kisses, damp salt-stained shoulders or boogers smeared on your chest as a regular part of your work day.

In my experience, no other benefits package has ever been so generous.

Here’s to you, SAHMs. If I could I’d pour you a glass of wine, put your feet up and provide you with your favorite movie/book/trashy magazine and give you that one damn moment of peace you’ve been looking for so you can rest up and do the whole thing again tomorrow.

Happy Mothers’ Day.

• Cinnamon in my coffee.
• Sleeping to 11:00 unmolested. (Unless Bill next door is mowing his damn lawn. Again.)
• Eating cereal for dinner.
• Having a friend spend the day with you at home doing … whatever.
• Books and magazines on the other side of the bed.
• Waking up in the middle of the night and turning on the light to read.
• Not making the bed.
• Reading the Saturday Washington Post all the way through.  I mean, all the way through. With a second and third cup of cinnamon coffee. On the porch.
• Wandering to 23rd Street for dinner and margaritas (plural) without having made a plan for it.
• The still and quiet.

…

• Going into Lely’s room and seeing that it’s clean. For the third day in a row.
• Smelling her in her sun-warmed room.
• Seeing P’s shoes next to the front door. Unmoved from the day before.
• Not smelling coffee (non-cinnamon) wafting up from the kitchen.
• Not hearing one … two sneezes downstairs.
• Haven’t heard “I have a question for you” once today.
• No hamster pile of dirty workout clothes behind the office door.
• Actually, I did make the bed. Each day. Before I went downstairs.
• Too still. Too quiet.

Lely: Wendy’s doing a TV show!

Me: Who’s Wendy?

L: Wendy!

M: I know. Who’s Wendy?

L: Wennnnndyyyyy!

M: Who?

L: ONE D! One D is doing a TV show!

M: Oh.

A rhyming joke by Lely:

Nok Nok

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Rita.

Rita, who?

I need to eat, too.

And her audience looked at her the way a dog looks at a wristwatch.

I am thankful for:

• family
• grass
• paper
• cousins
• friends
• shelter
• toys
• no homework
• American Girl
• Thanksgiving
• Christmas
• presents
• neighbors
• car
• xylophone
• Nanny
• violin
• fireplace
• my birthday
• Nanny’s birthday
• Mom’s birthday
• Dad’s birthday
• clothes

— Lely, age 6 years, 8 months.

The iron was left on the other day. I called down the stairs, “Is there a reason the iron’s still on?” instead of “Are you finished using the iron?” or “Do you still want the iron on?”

Subtle changes in wording and inflection exponentially change the real message being conveyed. Need to put that into practice more.

image

We’re outside having dinner. A large moth lands near Lely.

“I DO NOT LIKE MOTHS!”

“Why are you yelling?”

“So the moth won’t land on me.”

“Do you think it speaks English?”

“… Como estas, Butterfly?”

For Sale:
One cool springtime ride. Low mileage, maybe a large handful of city blocks and several trips to the neighborhood library. (The original owner grew too tall, too quickly to use this trike for very long.)

Features:

• Shiny bell that alerts folks they’re about to be mowed down on the sidewalk and — AND! — annoys the bejeezus out of the adult in charge of the little rider.
• Handlebar streamers in lieu of a speedometer. If the streamers are parallel to the ground, you are going down a very steep hill and are totally out of control. Or it’s just a windy day. If they’re hanging straight down you are stopped.
• White wall tires. Come on over and give ’em a kick.
• Adjustable two-colored seating for one. Not padded, but kids this age couldn’t care less. Also, the seat is not heated nor is there automatic driver seating position memory. Again, they just don’t care.
• Room for a passenger. Or two with some creativity. Standing room only.

New models sell for $68.50 (on Amazon). This model is yours for the low, low price of $40.

Plus, it’s already assembled, saving you having to explain to your child’s teacher why your little one repeated that string of expletives they learned while you were putting the ^%#! thing together.