He stared at me, waiting for an answer. I hesitated. His pencil remained poised in his hand, ready to fill in the blank. I hesitated some more. “I don’t know,” I said, “what do you think I like to do?”
My son shrugged and said, “I don’t know either but I have to write something. How about cook? Do you like to cook?” I nodded slowly. Yes, I admitted I like to cook, but I don’t love it. I mean, I do it all the time but I don’t know if cooking is something that should be written in #2 pencil on a homework assignment meant to discover more about a student’s parent and their hobbies.
Finally I gave my son a few ideas of things that I “like to do.” He chose one, basically because he wanted to get on with his evening, and scribbled it on the blank line. He was done and had moved on to something else. But I remained there in my chair and my thoughts. Is it really that hard to think of something that I like to do?
What do I do?
I feel like I do a lot.
I do actually cook. I clean up messes and mop floors. I do hair. I fold laundry. I have dinner with imaginary parrots (when instructed by my daughter that they are in fact at the table.) I drive my minivan to the library and grocery store. I read. I help with homework. I check Facebook. I support my husband’s work. I drink imaginary tea and change real diapers. I dress people and kiss “ouchies.” I pull weeds and get mail and do dishes. I meet up with friends. I laugh. I cry. I drink coffee. I snap pictures and watch as little hands draw pictures of their own.
I do a lot of things. But my son couldn’t think of anything that I like to do. This bothered me.
Days later I was still mulling over that conversation. Isn’t it apparent what I like to do? Doesn’t my family notice all that I do? If I didn’t do any of it would it even matter? How do I know if I’m doing well at what I’m doing if they don’t even know what I like to do?
This isn’t a new question to me. Years ago, I explained to my husband that since becoming a wife and mom I miss being evaluated. That may sound crazy, but I was just so accustomed to it up until that point in life. In school you get report cards multiple times a year telling you exactly where you stand in each subject. In my jobs, my bosses would make their expectations of my role very clear and then periodically evaluate my performance. Once I became a Mom, I was on my own. No one sits down with me and gives me a report card.
One year my husband tried. He took a passage of Scripture, Proverbs 31:10-31, and wrote out his thoughts on how I compared to the woman in the passage. It was super sweet and he even signed it at the bottom of the page. I loved the gesture and adore my husband. But when I read about the Proverbs 31 woman again, I saw verse 15,
“She gets up while it is still night;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her female servants.
Wait, what?! Female servants? She had servants? Ok, this isn’t an even playing field!
Nonetheless, I appreciated knowing for a time how I was doing. My husband’s poll was drawn from a relatively small sampling; one. But that one is pretty crucial. My man and our three children who, by the way, are the only reasons I do “get up while it is still night” are the only ones who truly matter when it comes to my evaluation. They don’t perform much formal critique of my work, but I’m starting to learn to take what I can get.
I have not yet received a report card or heard much constructive feedback from those I supervise. My underlings instead give feedback in the form of blunt food critique, bear hugs and butterfly kisses. They don’t really seem to care exactly how I’m doing what I’m doing. They are not even sure what I do. They don’t applaud me for a sparkling floor, drawers full of clothes or coupons clipped. They don’t care if I am the best in my field or climbing the ladder of success. They just want me. They want me to do life. And even more, they want me to do life with them.
That’s what I do. Life. I do whatever my hands find for me to do. And in doing those things, I strive to honor my Lord and my husband and children. I do each mundane task to the best of my ability. Sometimes it deserves an A. Sometimes I flunk. But most of all, I just do life. And I’ll have you know I like it. I like it a lot.
It was just hard to fit all of that on the blank line.
4 thoughts on “Do what?”
Very good. Nicely written. I love the last sentence. So true.
I don’t think Karson would want to put all of this on HIS line! I respect you for all you do for your family. You ARE a good mother. It shows every day of the faces of those you love! (even when they don’t agree with you!)
Life! I love it and perfect answer! It captured the essence of the other “stuff ” mixed in too;)
and when they ask for your job title, tell them “Life Coordinator.” I used that a couple times in my earlier stay-at-home mom days and it always threw people back a bit!