Started the day pulling on work-out clothes to get the kids to early orchestra rehearsal before tonight’s concert. I don’t mind doing this as long as I don’t bump into anyone socially – I’m usually a mess.
Steve will take them in if he wants to get to his office early, or if I’m too tired to get up. I usually volunteer to do it to help get me out of bed. When I get home, I’ll start with a few household chores while I wait my turn in the shower. I needed to bake for tonight’s concert before the weather got too hot to turn on the oven.
In between making the caramel sauce, layering oatmeal crusts, sucking up pet hair tumbleweeds with the vacuum, and sorting my son’s laundry (turning out 17 socks and 15 other articles of clothing – pet peeve), it hit me.
Am I in a full-on gender role trap?
My son was researching a topic for school on “femi-nazi’s.” We’ve had a great string of conversations about feminism; text book definitions, and examples in real life.
I’m about to head to the office. I have a few hours there and an off site meeting before I get back to “mom” stuff. I think this post will be a two-parter…
The “office” was a great break from my thoughts. There’s plenty of work to be done. Exciting work. Inspiring work. Work that will have an impact. I’m with people who care about and love what they do.
Came home to chores done. Treated myself to another taste of the bars I made for the concert.
If I’m trying to find a balance between mom-housewife-career, it’ll be the fulcrum I choose. Dammit.
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