What am I?

What am I?

According to many would-be employers, I'm nothing special. I'm not really worth much in the work force because I don't have any formal training. No pieces of paper that say I'm qualified to flip a hamburger. Well screw them.

Many of the superior people that hold managment positions are awfully young to know what life is all about or the worth of someone like me. I'm worth alot, not because of college education, but because I had to learn to live.

When I was 17 I found out I was going to be a mother. I was so shocked you could have knocked me over with a feather. I didn't believe it and made the doctor retake the test. It turned blue. I was about to be the mommy of a bouncing baby boy. You want to know terror? Try being a child having a child. Not knowing what life was all about and having to keep an infant alive and happy.

I had to learn how to decipher different cries from my darling bundle of diapers and bibs. He would be fed, dry and bathed but he'd still be screaming at the top of his lungs at 3 in the morning. I had to figure out why he was screaming, and I had the added challenge of doing this through sleep deprived dementia. You want to talk about listening skills? I had to develop mine fast, before I went over the edge and started trying to weave baskets with my toes while expecting the dog to tend the baby.

Then there was the joy of becomming the family taxi driver. Baby check ups, husbands work schedule, grocery shopping, bill paying, clothes shopping for the sweet little drool bubbler... the list goes on and on. Eventualy you learn to drive while balancing a bottle on the arm rest of the car seat, eat your hamburger while ballancing your coke on the dash board, holding your fries between your knees. Don't forget that you're usually trying to decipher the hand written scribbled directions that fell in your ketchup as you turned a corner. And all of this has to be done in a matter of hours, because the husbands work schedule window is a small one. And they say I have no time managment skills..I can proudly say I have never been in an accident... heh

Childrens clothes. This is a touchy subject for many new mothers. They want everything to be perfect, stain free and NEW. Then they actually get the infant home and three weeks later the child is twice the size they were when you brought him home. Oh great... is this going to slow down? I remember wondering this while sending MORE of my childs out grown clothes to the goodwill, only three weeks after buying them. It only took me about two months to discover the wonder of consignment shops and yard sales. I became frugal mom, able to buy a shopping bag of baby clothes for a single dollar! And people say I don't know how to handle money. Obviously these people have never had a newborn.

About six months after my son was born, I decided I had a pretty good handle on the whole mommy deal. I couldn't possibly be surprised by anything ever again. I wandered the world in this demented fantasy world until my son started crawling and walking.. You can put things up out of the way on top of the fridge and SOMEHOW the baby gets his chubby fingers on it and WHAM it's in his mouth. I have lost more Milano cookies that way...

OK, I've handled the crawling, smiling, walking phases... I'm golden right? WRONG... right around my profoundly intelligent sons first Christmas, I found out that it was about to start all over again.... I remember crying at first, remembering the sleepless nights, the coded cries....

Now not only did I have another infant, but a holy terror on two chubby little feet closing in on his terrible twos... This is when I began my medical care training. The first time your child picks a cat up by it's tail and holds the poor thing over a bathtub full of water and lets go is a day you'll never forget. Blood curdling shreik, blood bubbling wounds, a screaming infant that's been woken up from her one time a day nap that mommy can relax for 10 minutes and not a bandaid in the house.

You learn in those darling moments of life that a bounty paper towel doesn't only soak up spilled kool-aid fast. You also learn that a screaming infant can be toned out while you're repairing the crisis. Scotch tape, in a pinch will hold a paper towel in place until you can bundle yourself, a squirming infant and a shreiking toddler into their coats and run everyone down to your mothers house. Did I mention it's pouring buckets when all of this happens? It wouldn't be the hallmark moment it is without the rain. Heh.

Wandering through life in the first few years of being a parent is not easy. Ask any parent. It does get easier once they can talk and you don't need to do the whol cry thing anymore. Although...there is the whole "WHY?" period of every toddlers life that makes most people cringe. Little hands tugging on your pantleg while you try to talk on the phone and cook dinner and the incessant whinning voices of "why mummy?" would drive most people into a loony bin. I have mercifully blocked this stage out of my memory and my shrink thinks that's a good idea...

After a few years you can also put away your "toddler to adult" translation books. They learn how to speak clearly and express exactly what they think about any given situation. In between hair pulling matches and biting binges when they scream for mommy, that is. All I can say about this whole sibling stage of life is you must have infinate patience... or a really good neighbor that will hide you out in their closets every now and again.

After they mature and Barney is no longer singing his doleful love tune on your TV comes the cartoons that never seem to end. Disney movies, Dr suess books, cartoon network... they troop through your dreams as you suddenly become one of the characters of one of those same cartoons you've been trying to block out of your mind for months. The merchendising alone is a parents worse nightmare. The sheets, lunch kits with the silly cracker things, theblankets, sneakers, t-shirts. All to be decided are no longer cool two months later when the next new cartoon comes on. All you can do is sigh at this point.

SCHOOL! YAY! That's what you'd think I would be thinking at this point right? WRONG. I was the worlds biggest nutjob the day my children started school. See, I was lucky with the timing of their births. They both started the same year. My big little man, and my pretty little angel standing at the bus stop with their new backpacks full of notebooks, crayons and freshly sharpened pencils will forever be emblazoned in my mind. I stood there and cried as I clicked off pictures and they rolled their eyes at me with the whole "We'll be back mom geeze" look on their faces. It was another hallmark moment.

Now that they were in school all day, who was I going to be cleaning up after all day? Who would I be cooking for or breaking up when they got into fist fights? Who would I watch when they didn't know I was standing there in those rare moments when they were playing nice and I'd hear one or the other mutter "I love you"? I was lost...until they got home.

It didn't take me long to get used to having some quiet time, although I still wonder what they're up to. I can have my time, when I watch shows with more then a G rating. The problem is, I also have these times to think about my original question. What am I?

I have no formal education, but in many ways I am a professional in many fields.

I am a teacher, a nurse, a manager, a personal shopper, a chafuer, a seamstress, a chef that doubles as a short order cook, a baker, a finacial planner, a fasion consultant, a veterinarian, a listening specialist, a psychologist, a judge who also sometimes doubles as jury and executioner of punnishment, a housekeeper and a wife. There are probably many other things that I'm able to do, but I think you get the jist.

I'm a mother. To some people, that doesn't mean alot. I, along with many other mothers, had to learn it all on our own. We don't all have certifications or degrees. We couldn't all go to school and have someone tell us what to do. We don't get paid a cent for the muti-tasking jobs that we perform on a daily basis. Many times, we don't even get a thank you for what we do. Does that mean we don't love our jobs?

Nope. Our jobs are the hardest work anyone will ever be asked to perform. But we do get paid. Those little hugs and kisses and "I love you's" are worth more then anything else. So, to anyone that looks down their college educated noses at mothers that decide to take the more "rustic" route in life. To the ones that have the audacity to tell us we're not worth anything in the work force. I have one thing to ask you. Where would you be right now without your mother?