So…what do you do?

At every party, it inevitably comes up…the dreaded question gets asked. Oh and how I hate that question. The answer does no justice to the all encompassing work and energy, thought or time I put into it. Everyone thinks they know about my job but only those that actually do my job really know my job. For the rest of them, they like to pretend they know, but they haven't a clue!

After I answer the question, never have I heard “Oh, what does that entail?” or “Wow, that sounds interesting!” The response usually goes something like: “Now that’s a full time job.” This response is automatic; it does not imply respect for, understanding of, or sympathy for my job. It’s just the polite thing people say. The tone implies that my job is, well, really not a job. It is beneath a job because after all, it’s just so common.

After I reply “I am a mother” to describe my job, my career, my life-long commitment, there is silence. The awkward kind. The person I was speaking to now looks around and then down at his or her glass and then comes upon an escape plan: “Well, I think I’ll get another drink,” or “Do you happen to know where the bathroom is?” or something like that. Either way, the conversation has ended and I am left feeling like I don’t really count, that my job, although done 24/7, is not as useful or honoring as any other job. And I feel slightly flattened.

Gone are those days. I am tired of people telling me that they kind of “get” my job “cause they have a dog.” So next time you see me at a party, unless you don’t want to hear it, don’t ask me what I do for a living because this is what I will tell you:

“I am a developer of souls, and a steward of good citizen adult-making. I am in charge of character building and life-skills education. I am also the go-to person for the bored, hungry and disgruntled. I am a secret-agent who possess exceptional secret-keeping skills. I am a magician who is capable of making lost, discarded missing objects appear out of thin air. I am dolor of cash and medicine. Occasionally, I am a tyrant, going against the masses, and ordering that toys, clothes and dishes are put away, and refusing to feed the unruly population fast food. I sometimes serve, briefly, as a punching bag. My daily duties often include spiritual advisor, referee and peace-maker. My negotiation skills rival those used in the Middle East. I am an exterminator who specializes in monsters and ghosts. I am bug and lizard-saver, and occasionally bug-killer. At least weekly my duties include crossing guard, nutritionist and therapist. I am an actor, unfortunately type-cast, into roles where I am expressing surprise and joy at nonsensical sayings. Even though I don’t have a degree in art, I am able to interpret great scribbles and marvel at the colors, texture and illegible handwriting. I serve as bookkeeper, coach, housecleaner and fight-breaker-upper. I ensure we stay within budget and serve as the financial consultant, diaper changer, and dog walker.

However, in general, the job is not always perfect. Most of the time, while including all of the above duties, I am a time-balancing’, ignorin’ de ‘funk,’ strugglin’ woman, who is just trying to find space for myself between the worries, the second guesses, and the angst.”

So what do you do?