A long time ago, this question would give me the opportunity to say, in a nonchalant tone of voice, “oh, I’m a criminal defense attorney.” Deep inside, I was quite proud of this line, of what it said about me: I am not afraid of hard work, my life is like Law and Order or The Practice, I wear nice suits and high heels, I deal with die-hard criminals and I am not afraid. I would hold my head high and I really thought people cared, that they thought I was some sort of super-being because I had a law degree. They would ask “Oh wow, do you deal with like, murderers?” “Yeah, it doesn’t bother me. They are people too. Blah blah blah. Blah.” I would feign boredom with the question, pretend like I was above it all. Yawn, just another day in paradise. I was a lawyer. No one else’s job was as interesting as mine. When other folks would talk about their work, my eyes would glaze over – after all, they had JOBS but I was a LAWYER. I was the real deal. Gum chewing, ass kicking, rocking and rolling all over this land. L-A-W-Y-E-R.
I’ve had the chance, recently, to go out without the boys (see picture above) and a strange thing happens to me after having a drink and chatting with some stranger at a bar. They would tell me what they did and I would, as usual, pretend to care. Then came the strange part – they asked me what I did, and I couldn’t answer! I said, “nothing.” No, I didn’t say nothing. I said, “nothing”. That was my answer. When it came out of my mouth, I couldn’t believe it, but there it was. Nothing.
How do I describe what I do all day to a 28 year old sitting at a bar on a Saturday night? He’s not sitting there because he had friends come into town and his wife gave him a free pass from night duty. He’s there because that’s part of what HE DOES. In addition to whatever boring job he has, he sits at a bar, like a lot of people do. For me, it was a huge break. For him, its life.
So how do I explain what my life is like now? How do I explain the zerberts on the bellies? The teething? The laughing, trying to roll over, sitting up, waving bye bye (actually, salaam)? How do I tell this young man that I make sure dinner is on the table by 6:15 and I am a frequent user of the crock pot and I make casseroles and clip coupons and drive a mini-van? How will he ever understand that by “nothing” I mean “everything, and you just wouldn’t understand.” So, instead I say “nothing” and hope he thinks I’m a socialite that he must need to recognize, or that I’m on welfare or I’ve got a sugar daddy. If I tell him the truth. He just won’t get it. Or, worse yet, HIS eyes will glaze over. And I just can’t have that from some guy with a job.
OMG – your babies are so freaking cute! (this from an avowed child-disliker)
Yeah, tough question, isn’t it? I was never quite as kick-ass and invincible as you but I catch your drift. I used “lawyer” as a shield a lot in conversation. I was at an event recently with a bunch of attorney’s and one of them had the balls to suggest that I must be bored at home all day with my daughter. I got sort of fired up and invented a brilliant analogy in which my kid was the best, most interesting client I had ever had. It must have been the adrenaline because it is a rare moment these days that I can even form a coherent sentence. So, that’s one solution. Other days I say I am a retired or recovering attorney, which is usually good for a laugh. Like I said, tough question. So much of our identity is wrapped up in our profession that, in certain situations, being “just” a mom doesn’t feel like enough.
On another note – good for you for being out in a bar!
Your kids are gorgeous.
Why are you chatting up young boys at bars? And why do you care what they think?
…..wimper…..>sobbing< I thought you just went to lunch that day!! >crying and running off like a girl
I can vouch for that: he does run like a girl.
At least at some point in life you could tell people what your job was and they knew what you meant. I have always had a job where no one ever knows what the hell I do.
That is an adorable picture of my boys there!!! Mwah!
This left me thinking for some time – the difference between what you do and what he does. I love the contrast that you’ve drawn. You sing songs and change diapers because that’s what you do. He swigs an Amstel Light. Why, oh why does the Amstel Light attain some level of cool while developing two human beings from scratch get some level of boredom? I hate, hate, hate that my social life has whittled down to just drinking and eating with others, minus any actual mental stimulus. My life, while rife with bars and drinking, is boring as all fuck. While your life has its own routine, I can only imagine how much excitement and challenge every day holds. That’s so totally badass.