A few of my friends have asked me why I don't blog. I have two equally true answers. The acceptable answer is: I don't have time. The unacceptable answer is: I have no idea what I'm doing. Number 1 is no longer true at this moment now that I'm back home full time and school has not started yet. Number 2 is still true. I have no doubt you would come to that conclusion on your own after parusing my posts for a short time. This, I promise you, will be the most drab looking blog you have ever seen. Unless someone takes pity on me and teaches me how to make it pretty. But I digress......
After one (long) year of working full time I am finally back......working full time. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the past year being back at my youth's chosen profession. I thoroughly enjoyed being able to leave the house and do...exactly...the same things I do at home for people who aren't my family. I did. With vigor. I took great pleasure applying my makeup and listening to the children bicker knowing full well that they would run in and complain to me just for me to reply by telling them, "I'm getting ready for work, go talk to your father." It was awesome to hear a little whiney voice come wafting from the kitchen asking for (yet another) snack and yelling "I CAN"T HEAR YOU!" over the blast of my hair dryer. And getting up from the table without doing a single dish with the proclaimation, "I have to go to work now," yeah, that was cool. Then I would get to work and break up an argument between two clients, listen while an individual with limited vocabulary complained about his roommate, try to coax a stubborn, behavioural client from the handi-van he'd been sitting in for the past 2.5 hours, bathe people, do laundry, cook, keep appointments, clean up various and sundry bodily fluids.....Yeh, ahhh, so good to get out of the house!
Now I'm back home. I have spent the last week cleaning and reorganizing my house. My husband kept up as much as he could. Have I mentioned he is domestically disabled? Really, for his limited capabilities, he managed quite well. He is an awesome delegator. I say this without smirking. He taught me a great lesson! I am the type of person who wants to do everything myself, but I have learned that my nine-year-old is quite proficient at making Kraft Dinner, and my seven-year-old loves taking care of her little brothers, and my five-year-old won't spontaneously combust if she goes outside after picking out her own outfit! That's not all though. My husband learned housekeeping isn't all it's cracked up to be. He now knows why I unloaded all my complaints of the day on him as soon as he walks through the door. He learned that there are no laundry/cooking/toilet scrubbing fairies that show up in the middle of the night. Yes, both my husband and I learned a lot this past year after being submerged in each other's worlds. We learned we like our own better.
After one (long) year of working full time I am finally back......working full time. I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the past year being back at my youth's chosen profession. I thoroughly enjoyed being able to leave the house and do...exactly...the same things I do at home for people who aren't my family. I did. With vigor. I took great pleasure applying my makeup and listening to the children bicker knowing full well that they would run in and complain to me just for me to reply by telling them, "I'm getting ready for work, go talk to your father." It was awesome to hear a little whiney voice come wafting from the kitchen asking for (yet another) snack and yelling "I CAN"T HEAR YOU!" over the blast of my hair dryer. And getting up from the table without doing a single dish with the proclaimation, "I have to go to work now," yeah, that was cool. Then I would get to work and break up an argument between two clients, listen while an individual with limited vocabulary complained about his roommate, try to coax a stubborn, behavioural client from the handi-van he'd been sitting in for the past 2.5 hours, bathe people, do laundry, cook, keep appointments, clean up various and sundry bodily fluids.....Yeh, ahhh, so good to get out of the house!
Now I'm back home. I have spent the last week cleaning and reorganizing my house. My husband kept up as much as he could. Have I mentioned he is domestically disabled? Really, for his limited capabilities, he managed quite well. He is an awesome delegator. I say this without smirking. He taught me a great lesson! I am the type of person who wants to do everything myself, but I have learned that my nine-year-old is quite proficient at making Kraft Dinner, and my seven-year-old loves taking care of her little brothers, and my five-year-old won't spontaneously combust if she goes outside after picking out her own outfit! That's not all though. My husband learned housekeeping isn't all it's cracked up to be. He now knows why I unloaded all my complaints of the day on him as soon as he walks through the door. He learned that there are no laundry/cooking/toilet scrubbing fairies that show up in the middle of the night. Yes, both my husband and I learned a lot this past year after being submerged in each other's worlds. We learned we like our own better.
Comments