I have the best blog in cyberspace. In my head.
So sorry I haven't kept up. It's not that I don't have anything to say. In fact, it's just the opposite. Where the bloody hell do I begin?
Let's start at the very beginning. A very good place to start.
The profession of Mothering has been on my mind a lot lately. This is probably because I have been a mother for almost 2 years. I thought I would hate it, but I love it extremely. Rowena is a wonderful little person and I adore her. I work barely ten hours a week outside the home just so I can laugh with her and play with her and cook with her and be with her. You really ought to meet this little nymphlet.
I often meet new people in Portland. One of their first questions is, "What do you do?" I automatically panic every time.
Will they judge me? Will they think I am wasting my young 26-year-old life? Will they feel sorry for me? Oh my gosh... am I wasting my life?
Last night at Ikea, Rowena joyfully puttered from one display to the next, unintelligibly chattering about the experience. It was really darling. As she toddled past a fellow customer, he said to his friend,
"That reminds me- I need to buy some condoms."
He did not say this in a cruel manner, but his statement truly hurt me. Doesn't he see what a wonderful person Rowena is? Doesn't he see that her existence makes the world a better place? Doesn't he understand that Rowena is the future and hope of the world he lives in?
I didn't react to what the man said, and perhaps I should have. I could proceed to explain what a noble profession I have, but I won't. It's been said much better by others. I really am proud of what I do, and I hope to gain the courage to show it more. The best thing I can do to get a little respect as a mother is to raise Rowena as a loving, happy, responsible person- and often read her "Miss Rumphius".