Today was one of those days in which I needed to perform miracles or just be a regular mom.
Yeah, I said it. Moms perform miracles everyday.
We get the kids out of the house to school on time after walking the dog, waking up those reluctant children and getting breakfast together. Before the two middle children left for school I made sure vitamins were taken and clothing was suitable.
Once they left, I did a quick bit of dishes, grabbed a shower, woke up the last child and locked up the dog before leaving the house. We went to the babysitter, I grabbed the mail, grabbed a new coffee creamer, dropped off basketball shorts my son was to take back to school last year, picked up dry cleaning, stopped at the drug store for girl stuff, and went to work.
Once at work I do my tasks needed there but it is pretty smooth sailing. When I leave work the load starts again as I will grab a movie or two at the video store that did not open till 10 am, get ingredients for pizza tonight, stop at the resale shop to drop off some clothes, stop at the bank and then head home.
It is days like these that reminds me why I love my Jane Austen books so much. There seemed to be moments of civility all of the time. There were people who did battle in the drawing room and on the dance floor. Careful words could spell doom for a person. But it all seems so genteel.
Isn’t that what we women say we want – something gracious that is not so crazy? Of course that requires having people. It requires paying a staff to look after your mess and keep it all orderly. My staff does not exist to that extent. My children are willing to set the table, reluctantly clean their rooms and make the run to the store for one last supper item. No one else is going to pick up the dry cleaning or walk a dog that can drag them on the ground.
Once I have people, I can have that relaxing cup of tea while reading in my favorite chair. Once I have people, I can quilt all day and not worry about supper or cobwebs. Once I have people, I can stay up all night writing my once and future novel without worrying about getting the kids out of the house on time.
But then I would have virtually little or no contact with my family or the rest of the world. I would get lost in all of my hobbies and not care about being in the outside world. And I would be exactly like Mr. Bennett. He might have been an interesting person to talk to but he was a neglectful parent until after it was too late. That is the last thing I want to be in my life.
Karyn Bowman lives in Kankakee County with her outdoor writer husband and four children. Become friends with Karyn on Facebook.