A woman named Emily renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation. She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself."What I mean is," explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a .....?"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a Mom.""We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation... 'housewife' covers it," said the recorder emphatically.I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar.""What is your occupation?" she probed.What made me say it, I do not know...The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire."Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply, "I have a continuing program of research, (what mother doesn't), in the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and out). I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already have four credits, (all daughters). Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?) and I often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered me to the door.As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern. I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom."Motherhood.....What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door
K calls the following shoes her zipper shoes... I think it is because the two rows of 'diamonds' may look like a zipper to her!
We put up a rose petal valance (I'm not sure what you would call it) for decorations, and made the light pull long enough so that she can turn it on and off when she wants.
Posing for the camer and showing mommy her dress-ups..
Getting all dressed up.
We started by painting butterflies
Then the paintbrush just got to be a bother...
So we made hand prints - KayLynn loved painting Mommy's hand!
Then we strung up some twine and hung our art up to dry...
More fun art to come.
When she got tired, she put her feet up and daddy pushed her 'really fast'!
Reading at the library...a book about the dentist - cause we are going soon...
On the way home, she was tired of the motorcycle, so she hiked up her skirts and ran home!
