To working-out-in-the-real-world mothers everywhere

In the name of God, Most Merciful, Most Kind,

* * *

How do you do it?

For one brief day, nay - for a couple of hours, I joined the countless mothers who balance work, home and family on top of their heads, hips or fingertips and I came home absolutely drained.

Okay, perhaps it had to do with the nature of my stint. A junior kindergarten teacher's assistant on the second day of school. Sounds easy enough, but let me (finger) paint the picture for you:

"Waaaaah!!!!!!!"

"He cries and cries like that and then he throws up!"

"I want my baba, I want my baba, I want my baba!"

"Okay kids let's colour -- oh, you don't understand English -- uh....."

Whimper, whimper.

"Bathroom, please."

"Oh, he's throwing up. Call the dada!"

"Tell the mothers to stop looking into the windows!"

"Mama, I want to go home, it's too noisy."

"We only have an hour longer. Should we play a CD?"

"The CD player says it's on but nothing is happening. . .what about the blocks?"

"Waah, I want the blocks!!!!" "No I want the blocks!"

Of course, to complicate matters, I had my youngest with me at the time, a two-year-old in the midst of a class of four-year-olds (though I suspect a few of them were actually manipulative ceo's in disguise), and she wasn't all that impressed that mom was running around calming child after child like a firefighter dousing flames that keeps leaping from house to house.

By the time I stumbled into our deliciously quiet apartment, my kids were pooped, I was pooped, and all I could think of was -- sleep. My husband was gleeful.

"Now you know! Now you know! Work sucks the life right out of you."

Yeah, yeah, okay, okay. Work is hard. VERY HARD - especially with children who need you in tip-top shape for the rest of the day. Thankfully, I had my sleep, but if I hadn't.......

And so I am brought back to women's studies class, first-year university, where there was only ONE student who had the guts to admit she WANTED to be a housewife. We all stared at her, mystified that anyone with choices would choose that one.

But oh, how wise she was. Isn't it better to be a full-time mom, able to chill out when the tension gets too thick and everyone's fighting over the one drawing board in the house and you just don't want to give in and buy another because how-oh-how-will-they-ever-learn-to-share? Pop in a video and escape with a cookie in the kitchen and forget all about their cares. . .

For a mom whose scrambling to get home on time to get dinner ready, homework done, kids bathed and dressed and ready for bed --- not to mention getting that quality time in somewhere - the thought of a cookie in the kitchen all by herself may seem awfully optimistic.

And yet, because of my upbringing (mentioned a few posts back), I still find myself harkening to the world of work - struggling to remain at home base where life is so much less stressful but somehow less satisfying. It seems I've got nothing to show for my day -- "what do you do all day, anyway?" Sigh. How to change society's view of the ever-important role of 'mom'.

Oh, working mothers of the world - I salute you. I admire you. I pray for you. But I surely do not want to join you - at least if I can help it.