What’s in a Name?

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This was not a good “diet” day.  Not a really bad one either.  I bought some M&M’s but, I stuck to the pretzel kind because they sounded healthier.  I’m not really dieting… really. I’m making healthier choices. I’m making life style changes.  I’m getting a fresh start on a new and improved me.  Did I hit all of the New Year catch phrases?  I promise that I am not going to bore you with all of the details of my “weight loss journey” (another catch phrase there), mainly because I don’t want you to know when I stray from my journey’s path.  I will.  I just have to remember to get back on.  Don’t judge me.

Moving on…Big Poppa asked me if I was ever planning to explain to you where the name for this blog came from.  No, I didn’t really ever intend to explain because I really didn’t think that it mattered.  He said I was wrong.  I ignored him.  Then, I mentioned to a friend that my hubby has a business trip planned for the week of Valentine’s day.  He’s known about this meeting for at least the past month but, was afraid to mention it to me because he recognized that it might be a sensitive subject, with it being Valentines Day and all.   When I asked who was coordinating this meeting, the look on his face said it all.  Him, of course.  Every Sunday we take the time to discuss his schedule; dinner meetings during the week, upcoming travel schedule, etc.  I said to my friend that during these conversations I always feel like Sheila E’s 80’s hit “Glamorous Life” should be playing in the back ground as his theme music.  You see, my husband leads a very glamorous life filled with international travel and expensive dinner meetings.  Me?  Not so much.  My friend looked at me and said, “Oh! That’s where the  name came from.”  Guess he was right.

I am a homemaker, housewife, stay-at-home mom, domestic diva…you get the picture.  I don’t get to travel much unless you count my trips to the next suburb (approximately 3 miles away) to go to the closest Pier One or Kohls.  My weekly dinner meetings usually take place after my daughter’s dance class  on family night at Chick-fil-A and involve Cinnamon the Clown.   I have a rotating wardrobe of jeans, yoga pants (Best. Invention, Ever.) and t-shirts and I can’t remember the last time that I had a high heel on but, I do think that they are beautiful and I keep a supply of them, you know, just in case.  I don’t hold any lofty positions although I am the chairman of the Box Top Committee of the PTA at my daughter’s school.  That would be a committee of 1.  Yes, I lead a very, very unglamorous life.

Therefore, I am constantly amazed by the perception that somehow I share the glamorous life that my husband leads.  Glamor by association, if you will. What do I do with myself all day, you ask? I return phone calls, I schedule doctor appointments, I cancel doctor appointments, I cook dinner, I clean house, I find an electrician/plumber/lock smith/ lawn guy, I pick up the dry cleaning, I drop off dry cleaning, I go to Bible study, I do laundry, I go to the grocery store (I despise this with every ounce of my being), I volunteer at school, I chauffeur the younger kids, I ship things to the older kids who don’t realize that it gets cold up north and they should have taken their winter items with them, I get the car fixed, I get my hair done (one of my few personal indulgences), etc.  Often, the most important place for me to be is on the phone with one of my older children listening to what has them so upset and figuring out what to say that doesn’t sound like I’m interfering.  And, I have countless conversations with my younger children regarding Dora, Disney princesses, the boy band One Direction (should really be called No Direction), what to expect in second grade, and what does it mean when your best friend doesn’t talk to you at recess.  I am the keeper of everyone’s schedule. In other words, I am the SPA (Single Point of  Accountability – that’s  a phrase that Big Poppa really likes to use) for my family.    As you can see, there is really nothing glamorous about it at all.  No lounging on the sofa eating bon bons while watching soap operas.  No weekly mani/pedis.  No lessons with a cute tennis pro. Nope, not very glamorous at all.

Other phrases that Big Poppa like to use include: “Bi-modal distribution” when referring to the age difference between our oldest children and our youngest children, “Weak signals” when referring to a problem that must be addressed before it gets out of hand, and  finding the “synergies” in our family structure. Have I ever mentioned that he’s a chemical engineer?  Anyone who lives with an engineer (any kind of engineer) understands that they are quirky.  I’m being kind.  But, at some point after listening to all of his engineering  jargon, I realized that I served as the person in this family who makes it all run smoothly, well, as smooth as possible.  I am a Domestic Engineer.

Please keep in mind that by no means am I complaining.  Would I like to make a few changes? Tweak things, if you will? And by tweak, I mean the actual dictionary definition of the word, not what the word has morphed into over the past few years!  Like the word “epic” !  There will be a whole generation of people who have no idea what the word “epic” really means because of how these people have totally destroyed it!  So frustrating! I’m sorry…I digress. As I was saying, yes, there are a few things that I would like to change but, for the most part, this is what works for us.  We are a content family here in our home, quickly addressing the weak signals that often pop up in families with a bi-modal distribution of children like ours, while creating synergies that will last for years to come, all under the guidance of this Domestic Engineer.

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