True to form, the AI Blog Post Image Generator created this surrealistic tableau when I prompted it with the phrase "busy household." Yet somehow I think it fits.
(I originally posted this on November 27, 2015. It still rings true.)
We are a single-income family. I go to work five (sometimes six) days a week, while my wife Terry stays home and runs the house. This is no small feat, considering that seven of us live there, but she does it well.
Or at least I assume she does it well, because I am rarely a witness to the daily operations of our household. I leave for work at 7 a.m. and am usually not home until somewhere between 6 and 7 p.m. In between, there's a whole bunch of stuff that happens without any input from me whatsoever.
Well, except the money. The money I earn funds the operation. But that's OK because I like it that way. As I always say, I am in charge of Accounts Receivable. My wife – who pays the bills and manages monetary outlays – has complete jurisdiction over Accounts Payable. This system works for me.
But on those days when I happen to be off or working from home, I get a glimpse into how one goes about helping to manage the lives of two college students, two high schoolers and a middle schooler. Terry is constantly running to and fro, packing lunches, helping with homework, reminding kids to do this assignment or practice that piece of music for band.
She spends much of her days driving to various schools to drop off forgotten soccer socks and misplaced trumpets. She runs errands and cleans the house. She serves as the Uniform Mom for the high school band, a never-ending job that requires gobs and gobs of hours and effort.
She goes to daytime school events, emails teachers when there are issues to be addressed, and takes kids to various doctor and dentist appointments.
It's like this day after day after day after day.
And all the while I get only a glimpse into it. I hear about what's going on through hurried texts and quick afternoon check-in phone calls.
A typical conversation between Terry and me goes like this:
ME: So how was your day?
TERRY: <proceeds to rattle off 147 different things she did involving the kids>
ME: You did all that? Today?
TERRY: Yes.
ME: This Melanie person you mention. That's our ninth-grader, right?
And so on.
Don't get me wrong, this approach to life is a good one for us. Or at least it is for me, as I'm not the one having to serve as cook, maid, chauffeur and administrative assistant for six other people with crazy schedules. But I think Terry is OK with it, too.
It's just that all of these things happen without my knowing it, which makes me feel a bit disconnected from the reality. It's as if the family lives a separate life that I get to participate in for only a few short hours every night and on weekends.
Speaking of my family, if you see them, tell them I said hello. I miss them. And I'm fairly sure I know all of their names, too.