Wisdom of the Ages

It's funny the way that life has of showing you perspective when you really are looking.

Yesterday I spent the day railing about the injustice of being female and the latent sexism of the world around me.  

At lunch I was offended because of there were two of us at the table who have completed doctoral work and only the man was asked if he would complete his PhD someday, no one even looked at me.  I decided it was sexism that existed because according to the people around me as soon as my uterus bloomed I lost my brains.

(My husband, who was there and also not asked if he would like to complete his doctorate now that he has his masters, may have mentioned that I was perhaps a tad bit sensitive but I brushed it off as male dominated thinking and ignored him.)

I read the advice of my wonderful friends who read my morning diatribe.

• Several sent wishes for a deep breath.
• One reminded me that in a week I would probably do the same thing and not resent it because timing…is…everything…
• Another lived through the feminist revolution and let me know that though we like to think the fight is over, it's really not.
• Other moms asked me to share any wisdom I received because they get angry too.
• Some even thanked me for writing about my anger because it makes them feel like they're not insane when they feel it too.

So, I had a whole day of feeling slighted and abused.

Then we went to the pediatrician's for Mikayla's nine month appointment (she's doing great and looking tall) and came home to a plugged up toilet.

Which my husband unplugged.  Without asking me if I would do it for him.  Or complaining even once.

He mucked about in filthy "used" toilet water.  He fixed the problem.

While I sat in a recliner with two poodles on my lap and nursed the baby.

So, I have to admit that maybe there are crummy household  jobs for both sexes.  And maybe I'd rather do laundry and dishes and clean up books than unplug a toilet and clean up the resulting overflow from the crevices of the tile floor.  And start a load of laundry filled with towels and the bathroom rug filled with the toilet overflow.

The moral of the story as I see it is that life isn't pretty or glamorous.  It's gross, messy and frustrating much, if not most, of the time.

But it's still good to live.  And contribute.  In our own distinctive way.

And really enjoy the good times because the bad times are lurking around the corner.