A woman named Emily renewing her driver's license at the County
Clerk's office was asked by the woman recorder to state her occupation.

She hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. "What I mean is,"
explained the recorder, "do you have a job, or are you just a …?"

"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a Mom."

"We don't list 'Mom' as an occupation. 'Housewife' covers it," said
the recorder emphatically.

I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the
same situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The Clerk was obviously
a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding
title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" she probed. What made me say it? I do not
know. The words simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the field
of Child Development and Human Relations.

The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in midair, and
looked up as though she had not heard right. I repeated the title
slowly, emphasizing the most significant words. Then I stared with wonder
as my pronouncement was written in bold, black ink on the official
questionnaire.

"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what you do
in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself
reply, "I have a continuing program of research, [what mother doesn't), in
the laboratory and in the field, (normally I would have said indoors and
out).

I'm working for my Masters, (the whole darned family), and already
have four credits (all daughters).

Of course, the job is one of the most
demanding in the humanities, (any mother care to disagree?), and I
often work 14 hours a day, (24 is more like it). But the job is more
challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are more of a
satisfaction rather than just money."

There was an increasing note of respect in the
clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally
ushered me to the door.

As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
I was greeted by my lab assistants -- ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could
hear our new experimental model, (a 6 month old baby), in the child
development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

I felt I had scored a beat on bureaucracy! And I had gone on the official records as someone more
distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another Mom."

Motherhood . . .. What a glorious career! Especially when there's
a title on the door.

Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research associates in the field
of Child Development and Human Relations" and great grandmothers
Executive Senior Research Associates"?

I think so!!! I also think it makes
Aunts "Associate Research Assistants.

"Please send this to another Mom, Grandmother, Aunt, and other
friends you know.


May your troubles be less, your blessings more, and nothing but
happiness comes through your door!