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Warrior Mother

I am in the midst of a transformation, forged in the fires of the home. You see, I have recently taken on the duties of part time mom or Mr. Mom if you want to address me formally. My wife, Peggy, recently obtained her RN, and quickly gained employment in an 8:30-6:00 gig. I naturally welcomed this exciting new adventure and the opportunity to play a more active role in the upbringing of our four children. It was not until I actually started engaging it however that I gained any appreciation for the role typically assumed by mothers. This is not a self-congratulatory treatise on what an incredibly heroic husband and father I am – far from it. It may actually end up being a big whine session or quite possibly a pathetic cry for help, and by help I mean institutionalization.
Not only have I found myself to be decidedly incapable of managing the home and the startlingly complex lives of our children, I am having difficulty making it look like I am even helping. For example, I have on my phone calender to pick up our preschooler from school at 11:30 and the title reads, “Grace - art, nature, laundery”, for inspiration. I want us to have valuable learning experiences together and I also want to contribute to the housework, but come Saturday, Peggy is dragging the dirty clothes down the stairs. I don't even know how to spell laundry, and it's not even one task – it's washing the clothes with some thought as to how they should be washed, air-drying the clothes that don't go in the dryer, fluffing, folding, ironing, sorting, and putting away in the proper drawers, and don't get me started on socks - I can't even identify my own anymore.
So laundry is only one of the thousand tasks that need to be done to keep the household in a functional state. Keeping the house clean is an obvious one and the fifty tasks involved in doing so are just the beginning of the list. I will name a few more just to get a sense: school schedules; homework (it's worth it to hire a motivational speaker for this one); snack host at preschool; reading, understanding and acting on all notes and paperwork that come home from school and are hidden at the bottom of the backpack; grocery shopping; breakfast, lunch and dinner - feeding the children food that does not rot their teeth or cause chronic toxic epigenetic fallout; sports schedules – clothing, equipment, snack host and car pool; extra curricular activities; bills and budgets; day care; doctor and dentist appointments; pony tails (I still can't braid); brushing teeth and general hygiene; clothes; play dates; birthday parties and gifts.
The list goes on, and in order to place it in context, all of this cannot even be attempted without profound access to patience – not ordinary patience. This patience comes from divine revelation and a transcendent omnipresent consciousness that can multi-task in a way that makes Watson the computer look like an abacus. Unconditional love is the other necessary ingredient and it comes naturally but we must consciously carry it like a sword as we embody the sacred warrior who cuts through our habitual patterns and lost sense of wonder and awe.
Even accompanied by these powerful resources, we are tested every day, like a Greek myth where failure to show up strong and brave in every moment risks the end of the world and the fall of humankind. One thing that is clear to me now is that fathers will never win if we start keeping score. All we can do is try to help out as much as we can and never fail to show our appreciation whenever possible.

I'm A Woman.mp33.56 MB

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