Today was just a typical day - get up, get the kids up, make three lunches with three distinctively different sandwiches because one is allergic to peanut butter, one throws up at the site of deli turkey and one is the ultimate carnivore demanding all available meat p
roducts be combined with a slab of any available cheese minus condiments, drive oldest to bus stop, drive middle son to his school, drive youngest to his school, let the dogs out of the kennel because everyone else forgot about them, feed the dogs for the same reason, make banana bread to use up the brown bananas that would otherwise go to waste and get it in the oven before taking a shower so it can bake while I'm shaving my legs, eventually remember to brush my teeth, floss if time allows, sit down at my desk and begin the days' work (I work from home - no, really, I do). All before 8am.
roducts be combined with a slab of any available cheese minus condiments, drive oldest to bus stop, drive middle son to his school, drive youngest to his school, let the dogs out of the kennel because everyone else forgot about them, feed the dogs for the same reason, make banana bread to use up the brown bananas that would otherwise go to waste and get it in the oven before taking a shower so it can bake while I'm shaving my legs, eventually remember to brush my teeth, floss if time allows, sit down at my desk and begin the days' work (I work from home - no, really, I do). All before 8am.A little rushed? Perhaps, but typical. Really typical. I mean, what mom doesn't have a similar schedule and familial dietary restrictions to deal with?
So, I started work and was thoroughly engaged in a case study on German packaging reduction systems (I'm not exactly a tree hugger, but I do write technical environmental stuff) when the insistent timer on my not-so-easy-bake oven startled me out of my eco-haze. On my way to the kitchen to rescue the banana bread I noticed a carelessly discarded Corn Nuts package on the hallway floor. Like all good moms, I couldn't resist picking it up and headed to the garbage can in a huff that someone left it on the floor in the first place. I mean, littering! In the hallway!! What do they think this is - the side of a state highway?!
My indignance was multiplied a hundred-fold when I opened the broom closet door and saw the towering mount of trash that had become my trash can. Let me point out that yesterday, it was a rolling hill, but today it had grown to a towering mountain with a precariously perched empty Pringles can teetering on the top.
I'll admit, my first instinct was to mash it all down and see if I could pull the bag up a little farther around the mound to form stable sides into which more trash could be piled. My second instinct was just to empty the trash myself.
But, no! Why should I?! Why should I take the trash out - again - when there are 4 able bodied males in the household. This is NOT a sexist thing. This is a mom thing! In fact, this mom noticed that the trash was full last night and decided not to take it out, wrongly assuming that someone else would do it if I just gave them the benefit of the doubt and didn't nag them by pointing it out.
So, I opted for the scientific approach and, yes, the sarcastic one. I took out a piece of obnoxious fluorescent yellow paper and a black Sharpie and scribbled a note that began like this:
Day #2 of Experiment
- How long will it take someone to notice the garbage is overflowing?
- How high can we stack it?
- How many people will pile more on without taking it out?
- Will someone voluntarily take it out? If so, who?
- Will mom break down and ask someone to do it?
- Will mom get fed up and do it herself?
*Results will be posted at http://www.momisnotyourslave.com/
I left it that way all day. Everytime I walked into the kitchen it was a smug little reminder that when They got home from school, someone was takin' out the trash! I felt vindicated. I was proud of myself for my creative approach! I was The Mom.
At some point, my husband, one of The Offenders, came home and - believe it or not - took out the garbage without me asking him to. Even stranger, he didn't notice the flourescent yellow sign hanging over the garbage can (how could you miss it??!) I must admit I was a little let down. I wanted the boys to get the whole visual, but the trash was taken out so I was satisifed. Perhaps the funniest part of it all was when The Chin, #2 son, read the note and turned to me totally seriously and said, 'is there really a website called http://www.momisnotyourslave.com/? I told him that was my attempt at sarcasm. With total sincerity, the Chin said 'dude, mom, you should totally create your own website - moms would totally use it.'
And that's what started it all. This Blog.
Now would someone please put a new bag in the trash can, for cryin' out loud!!!!
