Awkward folks, it has been too long now since I have posted. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I have been studying for the bar exam. I took it last Tuesday and Wednesday and it is…well…done. My mother told me to keep my mouth shut unless I had something nice to say and DONE is the only nice thing one can say about a two-day, twelve-hour test. I have passed the bar exam two times before but I had to take it again because we keep moving to new states! The bar exam is the bad ex-boyfriend that keeps showing up in my life wanting more money and more time. I keep trying to break up with it and that darn test keeps following me around like, “yo babe, you can practice your profession if we can just hang out again for a couple of months….what’s a coupla months in the grand scheme of things, really?” I keep falling for it. So, in my absence, if you ever pictured me wandering the halls of my home unshowered and with coffee stains down the front of my shirt muttering phrases like “estoppel” and “final appeal” and reciting the elements of land contract formation to myself, you’ve got it about right. It’s exactly like that, but with less inspiratonal moments and more tears than you’d expect.
However, it wasn’t all bad. I learned a few things that I will take with me into this next chapter of my life — hopefully the stage in which I will practice law again and my children will help me out by ceasing to think of me as the person whose primary purpose is to pick up their empty Chobani yogurt containers in the TV room. I learned that I was fooling myself when, as a stay at home mom, I thought I was completely necessary for my family’s survival. My children can do…ALL…the…things! My husband can cook! My neighbors and friends are saints who care deeply about my family’s welfare! Do you hear that sound? That is the sound of me relaxing just a tad and pouring myself a nice, hot beverage. And that is the sound of me eating food without guilt that someone else prepared. That is also the sound of me figuring out that I am less important than I thought. You know what? It feels fan-stinking-tastic to be less important. I am absolutely nobody! Hallelujah!
When you first have babies, you realize that job number one is keeping them alive despite their penchant for swallowing objects that will kill them. They also take great joy in refusing to eat nutrient dense foods and they love climbing over high barriers meant to protect them from certain death. While you are keeping them safe, you are supposed to teach them to share, to have manners and to speak proper English. So, like a crazy person, you lock all the cabinets and hide the bleach. You learn to pretend to enjoy making baby food even though it tastes terrible and requires the use of a steamer and a blender (I am highly suspicious of any food that requires contact with more than one electrical appliance). The first time that they get really sick, you learn that 104.0 degrees is your enemy and that you must kill 104.0 fevers like you are in the Battle of Normandy and Motrin is your machine gun. This is all a little heady — this occasional warfare, this building of a human from the ground up. I’ll say it. You get to thinking you are pretty darn necessary for every diddly dang thing.
Somehow, when your humans grow up and start rolling their eyes at you for steaming their vegetables, you forget what it is like not to be absolutely essential. You find yourself saying things like, “Your eyes will get stuck that way” and thinking “It’s true because I said so world, OK?” You also have horrible daytime visions of your family’s life in your absence. You cannot die because no one will buy your kids pants…not the right ones anyway! They will subsist on an all-nacho diet while wearing the wrong pants! They will forget to floss, their teeth will fall out and their dentist will have to make them dentures at age fifteen while muttering, “if only their poor mother hadn’t choked on that chicken bone, they’d still have molars…and a future.” This can all be very unhealthy. At some point, you have got to be reminded that other people have practical household skills and those other people might be your children and your husband if only you will look up from your “Healthy Winter Soups” Pinterest board for a tiny moment.
So this Winter I went A.W.O.L. from my life. I stopped cooking dinner and running errands. I stopped signing my kids up for stuff. I stopped helping with homework. I boycotted walking the dogs, cleaning the house and doing laundry. I was studying for a terrible exam and the only way through it was nose-first into a book for at least eight hours a day. I half expected to come home from the library after the first week and find my children looking like the street urchins in Les Miserables and my husband dripping with sweat and desperation over all his new responsibilities. Instead, I found out that my children can get up and cook a very nice breakfast without me. They make lunches with food in them that contains protein and vitamins. I found that my husband is basically Julia Child with a crock pot and that he knows how to buy and prepare meats and wrap them in cheese and prosciutto! I also found out that my extended support crew would basically win the caring Olympics. My neighbors saved my kids and fed them the couple times that they got locked out the house. They took me to dinner and fed me as well when my eyes got bulgy and sallow from too much indoor light and coffee. My friends fed my family at least weekly, brought me flowers and gave me chocolates intermittently to remind me that fun exists and no test lasts forever. When I got done taking the test, my neighbors left me a giant basket full of gift cards and wine. Sweet Moses, I cried happy tears to see my children washed and fed, my husband smiling and my friends holding me tight at the end of this road. This is such good news for a mom who thinks she is too darn essential to ever take a real break. If you are in this place repeat after me: they will show up. Your people will come. That knowledge is basically peace, wrapped in hope, wrapped in bacon. Take a breath and take a break. The whole time you were holding your family up, they were also quietly holding you.
Renee says
Love it, Amy Adams! You have found a way to be unimportant, yet still terribly missed when you are battling the bar. I guess it just goes to show that we all truly love you for you. The things that you do to support friends and family are great, but your true sparkle comes from who you are and the example you leave. You remind us all to loosen our grip in the reigns and let others take a turn at the wheel.
Charles Barnes says
Dearest Amy, I have known for decades now that I am unnecessary. Like you, it really is a very good feeling. Strange as it sounds being out of the loop can be pretty special. Sure do love you, Dad
Jennifer Holliman says
So amazing to have such a great support system. Congrats on finishing the test. I hope you can get back to normal now!