Craigslist is a wonderful thing. For those of you not in the "know" basically you post an ad online to get rid of some junk... whoops!... rather "high quality but gently used" merchandise that your children have either outgrown, become bored with, or have annoyed you with to the point that you army crawl past their sleeping forms in the dead of night (doing your best impersonation of the Grinch as he steals little Cindy Lou Who's candy cane) and while they innocently slumber away, you scurry downstairs to the computer and post your ad for all to see. Once the ad is placed (and you've hid the evidence) you wait for an interested party to contact you via email, (no worries there... people love a bargain!) come to your home and view the "great deal" you are offering, exclaim with delight and hand you a fist full of cash as they haul away their junk (hey! it's not mine anymore right?) into their car and out of your sight! Like I said... wonderful thing!
So I had an appointment for a woman to come and view a few things that I was interested in parting with... she has twin 11 month old boys and she was coming from a meeting "downtown" and would it be "okay if we met at say 3:30'ish?". I in turn checked my blackberry to see if I had a small opening in my appointment filled day... (those that know me well, should be sensing a healthy dose of sarcasm here...) and as luck would have it... that worked out just fine for me! Now I have to admit that this particular day I was not at my best... or even at my normal. I had a lovely sinus infection that had me laying on the sofa the better part of the day while shouting encouragement to my children to "not climb so high on that bookshelf" and "try not to play with the really sharp knives!" but I made an effort to tidy myself and the house up a bit before "3:30'ish" (which basically consisted of zipping up the front of my velour tracksuit and blowing my nose once more at about 3:15) when one of the Crew announces from the bathroom that he has "made a mistake"... Right... So I begrudgingly leave the confines of my sofa (or as I like to call it, my corner office) and make my way to the bathroom... and step directly into a lake of pee. Great. As I don my bio-hazard suit my front bell rings. (Apparently her meeting let out early... how marvelous) and I open the door... And this is where two worlds collide.
Before me is The Professional Working Mother. Tailored, groomed, briefcase in one hand, and the other outstretched in greeting. Our eyes meet and I am sure I see a brief flash of regret in her eyes as I switch the mop I'm holding in my right hand to my left in order to shake her hand. I in turn flash her my best "Don't judge me sister, check out that diploma on the wall that I'm still paying for" smile and welcome her into our home. The boys come skipping down the stairs at this point and she being all manner of polite, inquires their age. They grin up at her and clearly state.. "Three!" But of course, being that these are my children, the boys decide that the newbie needs to be alerted to the current threat level of our home and they quickly inform her that "O just peed all over the floor so you better stay out of there or Mommy is going to make you clean it all up." ....Seriously?? "Oh, well... " I stammer "Let me just go ahead and show you the things you came for!".
In the course of our discussion, she informs me how lucky she has been to find a nanny whom she loves and trusts to take care of her children for her and how she often doesn't get home until nearly 8pm each day. In turn she asks how I like being a stay at home mom, and I reply that although it is hard to find time for myself that I cannot imagine life any other way. As she hands me the cash and I help her load the box of toys into her car we turn to each other, I see the curiosity I'm feeling towards her and the role of motherhood she has created for herself mirrored back to me in her own eyes. Just as I cannot imagine what it must be like to have a nanny and a full time job that kept me from home and family until early evening each day, I see the same curiosity in her eyes of how a college educated woman can find happiness spending her days with two three year old boys, and mopping up urine. We say our farewell and as she drives away I turn back toward the house and hear a small voice say "Uh oh Mommy..." and I honestly in that moment couldn't imagine life any other way. What's the old saying?
One person's junk... Another's treasure.
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