It's 10:00 and we just put our kids to bed. So hopefully they just stay there and don't keep coming out for the next hour and a half wanting things...
We were at the MPA closing social, which was a rocking luau/dance party and so we didn't get home until "late" although we left when the party was still hoppin' because the definition of what late is somehow changes when you're toting around small children. We needed to get ours in bed because Andrew and I both have to be on campus tomorrow and since Andrew needs to be there at 8:30 then that means the girls and I need to be there at 8:30, too.
"What do you need to go to BYU for, Mommy?" Rachel asked.
"I have a job interview," I said.
"Wait...for a job?" Rachel asked.
"Yes, for a job. Does that make you happy?"
Rachel is constantly asking me what I want to be when I grow up and I am constantly telling her that I am grown up and that I'm her mother. She'll then say, "No—I mean, like, when you can't be a mother anymore because your kids are all grown up. What do you want to be then?"
Frankly, I don't know...because you never stop being a mother, do you? Besides, neither Andrew or I are very good at pinning down what we "want to be." Clearly—we're still in school. And I have yet to meet anyone who has ever sighed contentedly and said, "Ahh, this is exactly what I want to be," because most people I know (probably everyone) is always trying to be better or achieve more in some sphere or another.
Rachel wants to be an astronaut. Just for the record. And she's always encouraging me to name what I "want to be" so I thought the fact that I'd be having a job interview would be exciting for her.
"No, it doesn't," she said (meaning it doesn't make her happy).
Then she paused and I could see the wheels turning in her head.
"Wait—Mom! Money!" she squealed, her eyes lighting up. "If you have a job you'll get money! You should do it because...money!!"
Andrew and I couldn't help but laugh a little. As funny as it sounds I hope that she remembers that for the rest of her life. Job = Money. No job = No money. It's one of those facts of life that's been true as long as I can remember it (and will be true as long as there is money).
I wonder what she was so worried about before. Perhaps she's under the impression that if I get a job then I can't be her mother anymore? That's probably just me being vain.
It's not like I haven't worked during her short little life—I've done tutoring, I've done lexicography, I've done editing—but I've done nothing that she actually considers "working," for some reason. This job (if I get it) will be no different. It's not a BYU job; it's another job that I can do from home and will likely do in the hours my children are sleeping. I'm still deciding if I can make it work, what with the baby and the move and everything. I think I can...I think I can...I think I can...
We were at the MPA closing social, which was a rocking luau/dance party and so we didn't get home until "late" although we left when the party was still hoppin' because the definition of what late is somehow changes when you're toting around small children. We needed to get ours in bed because Andrew and I both have to be on campus tomorrow and since Andrew needs to be there at 8:30 then that means the girls and I need to be there at 8:30, too.
"What do you need to go to BYU for, Mommy?" Rachel asked.
"I have a job interview," I said.
"Wait...for a job?" Rachel asked.
"Yes, for a job. Does that make you happy?"
Rachel is constantly asking me what I want to be when I grow up and I am constantly telling her that I am grown up and that I'm her mother. She'll then say, "No—I mean, like, when you can't be a mother anymore because your kids are all grown up. What do you want to be then?"
Frankly, I don't know...because you never stop being a mother, do you? Besides, neither Andrew or I are very good at pinning down what we "want to be." Clearly—we're still in school. And I have yet to meet anyone who has ever sighed contentedly and said, "Ahh, this is exactly what I want to be," because most people I know (probably everyone) is always trying to be better or achieve more in some sphere or another.
Rachel wants to be an astronaut. Just for the record. And she's always encouraging me to name what I "want to be" so I thought the fact that I'd be having a job interview would be exciting for her.
"No, it doesn't," she said (meaning it doesn't make her happy).
Then she paused and I could see the wheels turning in her head.
"Wait—Mom! Money!" she squealed, her eyes lighting up. "If you have a job you'll get money! You should do it because...money!!"
Andrew and I couldn't help but laugh a little. As funny as it sounds I hope that she remembers that for the rest of her life. Job = Money. No job = No money. It's one of those facts of life that's been true as long as I can remember it (and will be true as long as there is money).
I wonder what she was so worried about before. Perhaps she's under the impression that if I get a job then I can't be her mother anymore? That's probably just me being vain.
It's not like I haven't worked during her short little life—I've done tutoring, I've done lexicography, I've done editing—but I've done nothing that she actually considers "working," for some reason. This job (if I get it) will be no different. It's not a BYU job; it's another job that I can do from home and will likely do in the hours my children are sleeping. I'm still deciding if I can make it work, what with the baby and the move and everything. I think I can...I think I can...I think I can...
Good luck!
ReplyDeleteRachel looks like Emily. And, Emily used to want to be an astronaut. It's like watching Emily grow up all over again. :)