Work

I read this blog called, dig this chick, thanks for the recommendation KB. I like it. I like her pictures, I like that she has her business and considers herself a working mom at home. She recently posted an entry about how her house is never picked up, she always has 8000 things going at once. So she decided to post pictures of how her life/job/kids/home all mesh together. Her pics are better but here's my entry:



A pile of laundry, a cooing baby, a computer cord, my cereal bowl, and a bathtowel from trying to dry my hair that never got put away.

In any case, I've been going back and forth about thinking that parenting is a job and how I also have another job of writing this dang dissertation (I need a name for that thing!).

I think however, that I'm going to come down on the side that parenting is not a job. GASP! Can I dare say this, just after the night where I accused (wrongfully) Daniel of not pulling his weight? (he so does, I was just exhausted and the little one just wanted to lay on mommy and make her hot and it really didn't make sense for her to cry for mommy while I went to Home Depot and dropped off a propane tank too heavy for me to lift, so he went out and I stayed in and whined a bit with her)

ANYWAY, I DIGRESS.

But it can't be a job. It can't be about divvying up chores and sides and mornings. I've been trying to squeeze in writing time between Fiona time and it wasn't working because it made Fiona a chore. It made parenting a job-something to get paid for.

But we aren't paid for it. Writing is the job. Parenting is my life (or at least an aspect of it). I'm still not sure how it all fits together. But I do know that I can't squeeze her in or squeeze in writing. It has to be about having a job (writing) and then coming home or coming back to my life, a new one, this parenting one, but MY LIFE.

And it means I can't accuse anyone of not "doing" something because I can't make a chart out of it. I can't manage it. I can't simply hire an employee to do it for me. It's not a job.