The first Christmas card, the first household crisis

[lathany]

Mr Harford, prompt as ever, has won the award for "First Christmas Card to arrive at New Workshops". He has consequently beaten other likely competitors such as my Great-Aunt Joan or my friend Caroline who is living in Hong Kong (and usually tries to get ahead of the Christmas post). He has even written (OK, its a pre-printed label) his address on the back of the envelope assuming (correctly) that we do not have it.

As bateleur has already commented, we have a bit of a plumbing/electrical crisis on at the moment. On the plus side, we do have a plumber and an electrician (and a builder - who hopefully will not be required for this problem) that we like and trust (and who charge reasonably). So I am hoping that kitchen will be back to normal (or perhaps even cleaner) before Christmas. At least everything is still usable; I had nightmare visions of the washing machine breaking (with twins, this can be really, really bad).

Re-reading that last sentence is scary. I can handle being a mother. I can handle being a housewife. So long as I forget that I am both of those things. I have to keep telling myself that I am merely a writer-in-training with child and household chores.

Comments

Sounds like you might enjoy the following joke

[applez.livejournal.com]

My mom sent me this one:

Mother Reclassification

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 mother."

"We don't list 'mother' 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, ballpoint 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 triumphant! 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 mother."

Motherhood.....What a glorious career! Especially when there's a title on the door.

This make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers "Executive Senior Research Associates"?

I also think it makes aunts "Associate Research Assistants".

[unknownid.livejournal.com]

oh, c'mon. We know the truth, you Stepford-wife mom-bot, you. Do you have a flowery apron? Woman, where's ma ginger snaps?

okay, I'm done. I've always found "housewife" to be a funny term, since to me it sounds less like "wife who attends to the house" and more like "woman who is married to the house". which may actually be more accurate.

Hope your plumbing and electrical problems get sorted out with relatively little pain. Isn't homeownership grand?