The Nincompoop Club
I never had a problem with being a SAHM. In fact, I was grateful and happy that I was able to be one. I felt that what I was doing was valuable and important, albeit sometimes less than glamorous.

Well, several months ago, at a family gathering, my aunt told how she made the decision NOT to be a SAHM. This is my aunt talking: "My mother (that would be CB's grandmother) was a SAHM. And I watched what she did all day. She did things like...laundry. She took the dirty clothes out of the washing machine and put them in the dryer. Well, I watched this and I thought to myself--ANY NINCOMPOOP CAN DO THAT!! Well, I wasn't going to waste my life doing things that any old nincompoop could do."

Hmmmpph! Ever since I heard those words, they've been echoing in my head. At first, it was only when I did the laundry. And I tried to tell myself it wasn't true. Not any nincompoop can do the laundry. Some nincompoops can't do it. Some nincompoops shrink all the t-shirts and turn all the white socks pink. Some nincompoops don't know how to load the washer properly and the machine goes jumping all over the laundry room and eventually breaks. I'm not that kind of nincompoop. I'm a smarter nincompoop than that. But I don't want to be a nincompoop at all. And every time I do the laundy, I feel like I must be a nincompoop.

My aunt never has to do her own laundry. She worked really hard, became a doctor (a specialist--ooh la la) and hired herself a nincompoop. A fulltime, live-in nincompoop, who also cooks and cleans and does all those things that any old nincompoop can do.

So whenever her words come back to haunt me, I need something to tell myself to counter what she said. So far, I haven't come up with anything great (there's nincompoopdom for you). At first I thought, "Well, I'm doing more than laundry and dishes. I'm raising my kids and all that." But that doesn't work, because my aunt somehow managed to raise her kids really well AND do something worthwhile out of the house as well.

So I tell myself not to compare...which is fine, but that nincompoop line keeps coming back to me. It makes me not want to do laundry anymore. Or housework. Any housework. At all. Because I don't want to be a nincompoop. And I wonder why I'm wasting my life doing things that any old nincompoop can do.

And don't ask what the point of this post is. Nincompoops aren't expected to post intelligently, are they? Oh, does anybody want to join the Nincompoop Club? We can spend hours discussing which laundry detergents are best, the different choices in fabric softener, and other nincompoopery things.

Oh, dear. The dryer's buzzing. (Note for non-nincompoops: That means it's time to take the clean, dry clothing out of the dryer and to switch the clean, wet laundry from the washer to the dryer.) Of course any old nincompoop can do it, but I'm the only nincompoop around right now, so I guess I'll do it. See ya!