get a job

So my charming daughter has taken to strongly encouraging me to "get a job, you know, so we can be rich!" This makes me cringe, right down to the core of me, for so many reasons..

I've had jobs. Quite a variety, too, if I do say so myself. I worked at an amusement park, as the obnoxious person who strong-arms guests into being photographed, only to strong-arm them into purchasing a crappy souvenir at the end of the day when they are too tired to fight it. At the same amusement park, I operated roller coasters, the Ferris wheel and a number of other less exciting ones. In college, I was the secretary for an optician, and did all sorts of optician-y things there; I taught piano lessons and voice lessons, in addition to teaching music in schools, directing musicals and plays, and spending a horrible year teaching math to junior high aged kiddos. I know how the math gig came to be and yet I cannot wrap my head around the fact that I was hired for that specific task after freely admitting failing math in college. Ah, education. I even spent a year teaching part-time nursery school. To round out this list, I was the music director at my church, and peddled America's favorite pink-hued skin care products.

All this led me to the following conclusions:
1. I should never, ever have spent four years (plus on extra semester) and $100K on an education in education.
2. I really do not like other people's children.
3. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

I will address item #2 another time; my dearest know that their children do not fall into the category of 'other people's children'.

So here I am, a smart girl with lots of ambitions with no career ideas at all. But at the same time, here I am, mama of three of the most intelligent, beautiful, creative children ever to grace the earth. I stay home with them and keep them fed, clean and entertained. And really, I have never loved anything more. There has never been something I have worked so hard at doing, and even when I go to bed feeling like a colossal failure, I can't wait to get up and hold their warm with sleep little bodies, or hear my Wee Man say, "I good nap. Time wake up, Mom.".

I don't want to do something else. I know the time is coming when they will be enormous and want to be away from me. When that happens, I'll decide what it is I want to be when I grow up.