How come I'm still in Kindergarten, learning everything I ever needed to know, when my youngest is a high school senior? Something's a tad quacked about the math here.
Why haven't I learned everything I ever needed to know, yet?
When will I graduate already!?
Will I ever figure out how to build a puzzle?
Or learn the ABC'S so I can read minds?
Or what about coloring? Pasting? Stacking blocks?
I seem to be missing some pieces to this puzzle of a girl who God assembled about eighteen years ago; and I think one or the other of us learned a different alphabet. Why don't we both think in the same language?
And why is her room a definite scribble to me, but a passable work of art to her?
How come, I ask, when I organize her stuff she doesn't know where anything is? We must have gone to two different kindergartens and somehow she graduated and I didn't.
Just once I'd like to sing The Eensy Weensy Spider song without relating to the poor critter. Will I ever get to the top of the water spout?
Oh, I keep trying. I tried today.
Today I re-organized her room with a creativity foreign enough to me that I thought I must be thinking in her language. In her language, there isn't a word for dresser. Or maybe there is, but in my language, her dresser is my floor. Problem is that her floor has dog hair on it and her clothes do too.
So I remembered this word: folding chairs. I have some, and they've been folded for years leaning against the closet wall. I think I'm the only one in the house who remembers them. It's because I'm the only one in the house who cleans closets.
So, this word-folding chairs, (fohld-eeng chae-er-z); I looked it up. Merriam-Webster's dictionary defines it as: "folding chair-a chair that can be collapsed flat for easy storage and transport." I interpret the definition to mean, "a chair that can be easily transported upstairs and unfolded for easy storage.
"Perfect!" I say. "This is a missing piece to the puzzle! This is a word we'll both understand! This is the word to replace dresser!"
Yeah, I emptied her dresser drawers. The clothes she wears weren't in it anyway. They were on the floor.
I dragged her dresser out of her room, and stored it in her sister's old room. Then I transported four folding chairs upstairs and arranged them against the wall just beneath the window where her clothes are organized, (I don't know how she pronounces that word), on the floor.
I picked up her clothes and artistically draped them over the chairs. This is easy storage. There's a folding chair for jeans, two for shirts, and one for sweaters and hoodies.
Then I vak-yoom-d.
Oh, I could hardly wait for her to come home from school!
I heard the van pull into the driveway. She came inside with a Starbucks coffee, we hugged, and the reason she was late getting home was because she's stayed after school to do homework in the library.
"That's great!" I cheered as I bounced excited inside me for her to go upstairs.
She grabbed a peanut butter cookie with chocolate in the center from the plate of cookies her sister had baked and left here after last night's Super Bowl gathering.
I tired to act nonchalant.
She didn't see me craning my neck to watch her go upstairs. She didn't see me holding my breath with a smile glued to my face while waiting for her to grin a thank you from the top of the stairs.
"Oh, wow!" I heard from her room.
Then, "Ohh." Just a flat Ohh.
Once I read this job description. I looked it up.
- Must be able to work 135+ hours a week
- Willingness to forgo any breaks
- Ph.D in psychology or real-life experience
- Crisis management skills
- Ability to manage a minimum of 10-15 projects at once
- Ability to communicate as all levels
- Degree in Cross-Cultural Communications
- Excellent inter-personal skills
- Demonstrate knowledge and experience in culinary arts
- Unlimited patience
- Understanding of social media, mobile devices, current affairs
- P.A. Degree, or equivalent nursing experience
- Certified Counselor, or equivalent
- Home Economics Degree, or demonstrate knowledge in money management
Well, here I sit. I haven't head a thing since that flat Ohh. Real-life experience in psychology is about to come in handy. I've got three other kiddos I practiced on.
I have a degree in Cross-Cultural Communications. I earned it in four years of college; back when I thought I'd graduated from kindergarten.
I'm reading the job description.
Excellent inter-personal skills. Really, does anyone get excellent at that?
Experience in culinary art. Yeah, I've learned Alaska trout, Mid-west casseroles and dishes, Colorado mountain mash, German goulash, Baby food, Comfort food, Slap-it-together-fast food, Teen food, Adult food, and I've got about twenty-years experience in Tex-Mex food. I'm not above dishing up Bribery food. I never was much for guilt-free cooking, anyway.
I'm an opportunist, and I figure I can combine the culinary arts with communication skills, demonstrate an understanding of mobile devices and practice money management right about now.
"So," I text upstairs, "how 'bout I pick up your favorite Chipotle meal for dinner tonight? It's on me!" I add a smiley face for good measure.
Ten seconds later I get her response, "Aww yes!" She adds a smiley face with hearts.
I'll wait till we're eating to teach her the word folding chairs.
written by Carolyn-Elizabeth