So we're working on efficiency at my household. I don't think I completely learned how to be efficient in my youth. If I had, I would have "learnt" how, not "learned" how, and I would have spelt the word with one fewer letters the first time instead of explaining that my American English spell-check does not recognize the British English spelling. . . . Anyway . . . where were we?
Oh, yes. Efficiency. You can see my predicament. Many of you share it, don't you? Don't kid yourselves. You're not fooling anyone.
As I said, we are working on the subject at my house. I do a very good job of stopping to talk to my children to make sure they've got a shoulder to cry on, a good talking-to, perhaps a slightly older and wiser perspective on a given topic, or just generally explain something that is vague to them. I also do a good job of spending quality time talking with my husband, sharing news and views, chuckles, and appreciation for the darndest things my children said during the day.
Unfortunately, I'm not the multi-tasker that our dear society claims that all women were born naturally to be. Personally, I think it's bunk. I guess I'm more man-like (and I know quite a few women who are likewise in this regard.) than the "average" woman, because I can really only concentrate on one thing at a time with any hope of getting it done a) at all, and b) with any competence. So much for multi-tasking. I like to tell people that I can't chew and walk gum at the same time.
Hence the need for efficiency training at my house.
No, now that our youngest is an over-the-hill five year-old, it is time to move into a new phase of life for all of us. My husband is a fantastic people manager, and I've enlisted his expertise to help keep me on track and moving in the right direction.
He has offered to take on certain household responsibilities so that I can be relieved of them as I move more toward my "working life". You know, life as someone in addition to being "MOM". I put that in all caps as a tribute to all those moms out there who still have the "just a mom", "SAHM" label applied to them at school functions and those events that used to be called cocktail parties.
SAMH's (Stay-At-Home-Mother, for those who aren't familiar with the acronym) of my acquaintance rarely get the chance to stay at home. Most would love to, but there are so many things to accomplish so that the world doesn't collapse in a heap—Oh, wait, it IS doing that just now, isn't it? Some moms somewhere haven't been doing their jobs properly, methinks.
As I was saying before I got sidetracked yet again (do you see my dilemma now?) . . . my dear husband has stepped into the breach to offer his skills in managing my shift into more of a non-SAMH career capacity. He negotiated with my post-adolescent daughter a few hours per week for my escape to a local bar (coffee, of course) for the purpose of having some mostly uninterrupted writing time. You're reading the first fruits of that arrangement right now.
So, with the intention of increasing our efficiency, please allow me to welcome you to Kosars, Inc.! Details to follow. Eventually. I hope.
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