work

As I was walking my dearest Christopher from school to his dentist appointment today, he turned to me out of the blue and said, "Mommy, why don't you have a real job?" Thanks for noticing, kid...

I explained that no, I don't have a normal job, but instead a bunch of smaller jobs - I work at church, and I take my classes, and I stay home so I can do things like walk him to his dentist appointment in the middle of the day. And also, we're extremely lucky that Daddy gets paid very well for what he does and I don't have to work to make money for the family.

He thought about this briefly and said, "Ok. Actually, I'm glad that you don't have a real job, because then I'd have to go to Hort [after-school care] every day."

So. That makes one of us happy with the current state of affairs. Two, if you count Caroline, who detests going to Hort, but next year will be off to secondary school so it won't matter. I...want to believe this story? But deep down I don't. This and all my other explanations about why I'm not working (and I've tried out a good number!) feel like just so many excuses. The real reason seems to be buried somewhere in my subconscious, and I can only hope that one of these days it will reveal itself so that I can either embrace it (and say honestly and with confidence why I'm on the path of low economic output), or beat it into submission with airtight logical arguments.

Speaking of which, bonus conversation with Christopher:

Yesterday Caroline went to a lecture for elementary school kids at the university, about chemistry and the periodic table. (Presumably this lecture series is meant to show kids how totally awesome it is to sit in a lecture hall and listen to someone talk for an hour.) Christopher and I accompanied her over there and then had to waste an hour wandering around the campus.

Ch: What's the periodic table?
me: Well, it's a way of showing all the different elements - that's the different kinds of atoms that all matter is made from.
Ch: What's matter?
me: It's, like, all the stuff in the universe. Solid stuff, like this bench, but also liquid stuff like water and gases like the air we breathe. The only place you don't find matter is in the darkness of space.
Ch: I know something else that isn't made of matter.
me: Um...ok...what's that?
Ch, dramatically: Matter itself.
me: ......Christopher, I think you should be a philosopher.
Ch: What's a philosopher?

This child is amazing, and also, exhausting.

Meanwhile, Caroline was immersing herself in the college experience by taking notes, which look totally legit to me 💕💕💕