my invisibility cloak

over the years, i've been asked by some, "what do you do all day?" because i'm a stay-at-home mom. depending on what word is emphasized, i totally get the gist of the question.

well, first off, here is what i do NOT do all day. sleep late. let the maid in. go shopping. hang out at a salon. watch tv. work out with my trainer. talk on the phone.

there is no maid. there is no trainer. and i hate the telephone.

several years ago, i woman i know who stayed home did nothing all day. for real, nothing. her husband came home and the house was a wreck. no beds were made. dishes and cups were wherever the kids left them. clothes were here and there. blinds were closed. mail was unretrieved. she looked like crap.

he said, "what the hell happened here?!"

and she said -- you guessed it, "nothing." that is what nothing looks like. it looks like a friggin mess.

at different times, i have done different things. for over a year i delivered meals on wheels. i went to a bad part of town, picked up about a dozen hot lunches, and drove them to some old folks who were still able to live alone thanks to programs such as this. my kids went with me. did they slow me down? yes. did they complain? yes. did they see people who needed a helping hand? yes. they listened to some of these old geysers tell stories of their youth. they got cookies from others. they got a clue that life isn't always a great ride into the sunset.

other times i have volunteered at school. one year -- the worst year, i was paired with a nonstop complainer and was in charge of all the volunteers for every single function the school had all year. i've been in charge of school supplies. i've been in charge of sack patrol. room parents. i show up and help kids read. i shelve books in the library. i show up.

then there are times when i'm more to myself. i stay home more. i clean, because if you want to talk to the maid, just go look in the mirror. i cull my children's clothes, see what's outgrown, what they need. i clean toilets. i schedule the cars for routine maintenance. i waste hours of my time on hold to complain about an incorrect cable bill, or electric bill, i keep our calendar organized, i make sure my kids do all their homework and stay in the straight-A zone. i protest my taxes -- and win.

what do all of these things have in common?

they are invisible. if you do them well, there is no trace. there is always a juice box in the fridge for lunch. there are no late notices on any bill. the house always looks presentable if someone were to drop in.

it looks like a free ride, i am sure, from the outside. but, my dear, there are no free rides. not even a free lunch.

i can well remember, when i was a smart-ass teenager, telling my mom that it wasn't her money because she didn't work. it was my dad's money. and she very calmly told me that it was their money, that her worth was not tied up in dollars and cents because what she brought to our family was not payable in dollars and cents. i thought she was full of it.

and now, she is me. and i need to go clean some toilets. and call my mom to make sure she knows how much i love her.