We All Have Work; Let No-one Shirk Part #1: Mom
Question for today: "What jobs have you had?"
I start every semester explaining to my students that I've taught Writing at BYU for for 11 1/2 years. Working at BYU is the second best job in the world. The best job in the world is the one I had before that (and technically still have)--I was and am a mom.
Being a mom requires a complex skill set. A mom is a chef, a chauffeur, a nurse, a teacher, a cheerleader, a psychologist, a philanthropist, a personal trainer--you get the picture.
Nurse: Several years ago our family vacationed at Disneyland. In the middle of the night Stacy woke us complaining of severe abdominal pain. Sheldon and I rushed her to the nearest hospital (big mistake, but that's a story for another day), and John stayed at the hotel with Mylee and Tyler. After a long night, and some strong arming from Sheldon, the hospital performed a CT scan where they discovered that Stacy's intestines were leaking and she was clear full of infection. She was rushed into surgery that the doctor insisted she wouldn't survive (he didn't understand the power of a priesthood blessing). Anyway, Stacy came home to Utah with a colostomy bag. A person with a colostomy bag can't expel waste in the normal way so waste is deposited directly from the bowels into a bag attached to the users belly. I'm sure that you can imagine some of the problems that result from this technology. Stacy was so thin from problems associated with her crones disease that the colostomy bag wouldn't adhere. She and I visited the wound care clinic at Utah Valley Region Hospital numerous times trying to remedy this problem--to no avail. Because of the ill fitting bag waste would seep out around the opening burning the adjacent skin. These burns further exacerbated the problem because the bag wouldn't adhere to the wounded flesh and the adhesive caused excruciating pain. Finally I took the problem (literally) into my own hands and devised a way to make that bag fit. We used gentian violet to heal the burns and I found a way to adhere the bag. The nurses at the wound clinic said I had missed my calling and that I should have been a stoma nurse. What they didn't realize is that I am a mom and in my case, that makes me a stoma nurse.
Psychologist: One of my favorite times as a mom was late at night when one of my kids would come home from a date or an outing and want to talk (why do teenagers only want to talk late at night to sleep-deprived parents). Now that I'm past the point of waiting up for kids and late night gab sessions I find that these are some of the times I miss most. I'm a mom and a psychologist.
Philanthropist: When I was a kid we had a joke at our house that whenever we walked into the house and smelled something delicious cooking it was always for someone else. This idea is exceedingly unfair to my mom--she was an incredible cook and she always served yummy hot home-cooked meals. But often the delicious meals associated with those yummy smells weren't for us and thus she taught us to love and to serve. She was always doing for someone else. I hope I learned that from her. My kids jokingly make the same claim that if something aromatically enticing was cooking it was to go to someone else has some validity. I hope I learned from my mom to serve. I hope that my kids learned the same thing from me. I'm a mom and a philanthropist.
Chauffeur/Cheerleader: When we first moved to Riverton my neighbor, Chris Fraughton, chided me by saying the city had to come out and repave the road in front of my house because I regularly wore it out. She wasn't far off the mark. When we moved to Riverton Keith was 12. He was involved in little league baseball in the summer and basketball in the winter and mom took him to both practices and games. He loved scouts and participated fully--and hence so did mom. Michelle was 11, involved in piano lessons, theater, and swimming. At first we couldn't find a Salt Lake County swim team so I hauled her daily to Lehi. Steve at 9 played baseball and basketball and was busy with cub scouts. Stacy was 8 and Samantha 6. Both girls followed busily after their brothers and sister. Over the years I've spent a good size chunk of my life attending baseball games, basketball games, wrestling matches, play practices, concerts, swim meets, and tennis matches cheering my kids onto victory (and occasionally defeat), and hauling the kids and their friends to each. I'm a mom and a chauffeur/cheerleader.
I start every semester explaining to my students that I've taught Writing at BYU for for 11 1/2 years. Working at BYU is the second best job in the world. The best job in the world is the one I had before that (and technically still have)--I was and am a mom.
Being a mom requires a complex skill set. A mom is a chef, a chauffeur, a nurse, a teacher, a cheerleader, a psychologist, a philanthropist, a personal trainer--you get the picture.
Nurse: Several years ago our family vacationed at Disneyland. In the middle of the night Stacy woke us complaining of severe abdominal pain. Sheldon and I rushed her to the nearest hospital (big mistake, but that's a story for another day), and John stayed at the hotel with Mylee and Tyler. After a long night, and some strong arming from Sheldon, the hospital performed a CT scan where they discovered that Stacy's intestines were leaking and she was clear full of infection. She was rushed into surgery that the doctor insisted she wouldn't survive (he didn't understand the power of a priesthood blessing). Anyway, Stacy came home to Utah with a colostomy bag. A person with a colostomy bag can't expel waste in the normal way so waste is deposited directly from the bowels into a bag attached to the users belly. I'm sure that you can imagine some of the problems that result from this technology. Stacy was so thin from problems associated with her crones disease that the colostomy bag wouldn't adhere. She and I visited the wound care clinic at Utah Valley Region Hospital numerous times trying to remedy this problem--to no avail. Because of the ill fitting bag waste would seep out around the opening burning the adjacent skin. These burns further exacerbated the problem because the bag wouldn't adhere to the wounded flesh and the adhesive caused excruciating pain. Finally I took the problem (literally) into my own hands and devised a way to make that bag fit. We used gentian violet to heal the burns and I found a way to adhere the bag. The nurses at the wound clinic said I had missed my calling and that I should have been a stoma nurse. What they didn't realize is that I am a mom and in my case, that makes me a stoma nurse.
Psychologist: One of my favorite times as a mom was late at night when one of my kids would come home from a date or an outing and want to talk (why do teenagers only want to talk late at night to sleep-deprived parents). Now that I'm past the point of waiting up for kids and late night gab sessions I find that these are some of the times I miss most. I'm a mom and a psychologist.
Philanthropist: When I was a kid we had a joke at our house that whenever we walked into the house and smelled something delicious cooking it was always for someone else. This idea is exceedingly unfair to my mom--she was an incredible cook and she always served yummy hot home-cooked meals. But often the delicious meals associated with those yummy smells weren't for us and thus she taught us to love and to serve. She was always doing for someone else. I hope I learned that from her. My kids jokingly make the same claim that if something aromatically enticing was cooking it was to go to someone else has some validity. I hope I learned from my mom to serve. I hope that my kids learned the same thing from me. I'm a mom and a philanthropist.
Chauffeur/Cheerleader: When we first moved to Riverton my neighbor, Chris Fraughton, chided me by saying the city had to come out and repave the road in front of my house because I regularly wore it out. She wasn't far off the mark. When we moved to Riverton Keith was 12. He was involved in little league baseball in the summer and basketball in the winter and mom took him to both practices and games. He loved scouts and participated fully--and hence so did mom. Michelle was 11, involved in piano lessons, theater, and swimming. At first we couldn't find a Salt Lake County swim team so I hauled her daily to Lehi. Steve at 9 played baseball and basketball and was busy with cub scouts. Stacy was 8 and Samantha 6. Both girls followed busily after their brothers and sister. Over the years I've spent a good size chunk of my life attending baseball games, basketball games, wrestling matches, play practices, concerts, swim meets, and tennis matches cheering my kids onto victory (and occasionally defeat), and hauling the kids and their friends to each. I'm a mom and a chauffeur/cheerleader.
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