on having your cake and eating it too...

i like how people think that because you are a working mother, you must be able to juggle flaming torches and whip up marvelous concoctions in the kitchen simultaneously. i, for one, would wager that my son's preschool teacher may disagree strongly with that argument. you know the saying, "the people you love the most, you end up treating the most poorly?" well, i consider my preschool teachers to be, hands down, the most fantastic folks for the job. they care deeply for my children's wellbeing and sometimes, dare i say, are far more detail oriented than I am. and so for that reason, they probably don't like me very much some days. And i'm supposedly the one "having my cake and eating it too".

the trouble I see with that phrase, which of course illustrates that young mothers are seeking to advance in the work place and yet maintain sanity on the homefront as well, is that i don't think people have seen 'my cake' lately. I mean, the honest truth? My cake doesn't have fondant icing, or rosettes, or sprinkles. My flour hasn't been sifted by hand, and the eggs beaten beautifully while my sugar and butter blended to a perfect cream. My cake has been thrown together, from a box of Duncan Hines and a shaker of crystal sugar from 2002. But you know what, I. Am. Okay. With. That. the truth is, my son doesn't know any difference, and he thinks the cake-out-of-a-box tastes Yuuuuumy. And i don't really LOVE the baking process, you know? I mean, fondant is pretty to look at, but i don't really enjoy all that work. 8 years ago, i thought without a doubt i would be a SAHM. And i erroneously pre-judged the working mothers of the world, not understanding their drive and energy. I guess God has a sense of humor though. Putting me in the place I am now, and gently and consistently humbling me. You know, like when i forget to pack my son's valentines for the party at school... and so they are sitting on the kitchen table on February 16th. Boo. Please, Lord, Please don't let him have a long term memory at age two.

Don't get me wrong, I don't like the fact that my cake making skills leave, err, well, much to be desired in the 'presentation' department. But sometimes, at the end of the day, i just don't know that St. Peter (or whomever God has standing at the gate to heaven) is going to look through a portfolio of valentines past and award me entrance on that basis. And I don't think that God is looking for a pastry chef or politician in heaven anyway.

But when my children are grown, and believe me, i know that will happen all too soon, I want to have provided them with opportunities to see clearly the community that God has placed us in for this short duration on earth. I want to provide for them by whatever means I am appointed to for the present moment. And I want to love them and cherish these moments and foster their creativity. For right now, I have a peace that I am doing that from the working mom post. What a privilege to live in a world where that can take such different shapes and forms for all of us mothers.

And, just like my box-cake lifestyle right now, i've got way less time for this blogging thing at the present moment than I'd like... so forgive the lack of proofreading or editing :)