My Job Title

"What was I thinking?"

I've been wondering that question for the past few minutes.

Spencer's teacher called. Because his class is having some parents come in to discuss their jobs to give the children ideas on what careers they might be interested in when they get older. His teacher wanted to know if I might be willing to come in and tell the kids about my job.

"Uhhhh, you do know that I'm a stay-at-home mom, right?" I asked.

I had visions of children with their eyes glazing over as I describe how many times a day I open and shut the washing machine.

I pictured mouths hanging open with droplets of spittle dribbling on desks as I explain that in between loads of laundry I'm sometimes on my hands and knees, scrubbing toilets. (Out of kindness and love for my Spencer, I won't share with his class that it is often his bad aim that causes me such in depth sessions with my toilet.)

I imagined little girls gagging as I pondered telling them about the day I'd just had, which started with me taking a glass of my older son's urine to his pediatrician to see if there was any sugar in it as an indication of diabetes (there wasn't).

"Yes," Spencer's teacher said, "but I also know that you used to be a journalist, or still are."

Well, I was. Many moons ago.

And like a ding-dong, I agreed to do it. I'm not even sure why. Except that I love my kids. And I think their teachers are pretty great. I also think they attend the best elementary school in the area. I'm there nearly as often as I'm at home. And I'd do just about anything to support that place and the staff.

We figured out a day and time that would work best.

And then I asked, "Who else is coming?"

A veterinarian's assistant.

An ER doctor.

An air traffic control operator.

And me. A stay-at-home mom.

Oh shoot!

No, really. Please, shoot. As in "Shoot me now before I embarrass my child."

So I explained the situation to Spencer. And then I asked him what my job was.

"To keep us safe."

I hugged him.

Then I asked Allison what she thinks Mommy does all day.

"Nothing."

"Really, Allison? Nothing?" I needed clarification.

"Just be lazy," she replied.

I'm thinking I need to sharpen my PR skills on that kid!

I started to panic a little though, so I went downstairs. And I found them.

The boxes.

Boxes of proof of a former lifetime. Back when I had a job that guaranteed me a pay check. One that I could cash!

I dug around and found the Today's CPA magazine that showed my last published work. From a decade ago. I pulled it out.

Then I found the plaque that was awarded to me from the Arkansas AP for first place in education reporting at the last newspaper that I worked at 12 years ago. I pulled that out, too.

I dove back in and found the newspaper that contained the article that won the award. I re-read it.

"Not too shabby," I thought.

Then I found Clay and asked him what he thought my job was.

"To take care of us," he said.

I let him read the award-winning article I'd written 12 years ago. When he was done, I asked him what he thought. He said it was good.

"Did you know I had that in me?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "I knew."

I have no idea what I'll share with Spencer's classmates. Maybe a little about journalism and a little about being a stay-at-home mom. What they might ask me? That's a frightening mystery to me right now.

What I do know is that I used to be a journalist who wanted to be a mom when she grew up.