As election season comes upon us, I realize I too am a politician. I make laws all day long. However, my constituents, who are between the ages of 3 – 9 years old, continue to remind me that they did not vote me in office. In fact, sometimes they try to vote me out. I remind THEM, I was appointed, not elected.
Since taking office, I’m very proud of my accomplishments. I’ve established a firm dictatorship with policies in safety and transportation. My critics have not been so happy about the health policies portion of my regulations, such as no sugar before dinner and early bedtimes on school nights.
I have to confess, I was not cut out to be a politician. Not knowing how to stick to a budget should make me qualified, but, I won’t go there. I do wish I had been better trained to run a small country of messy rebels. I was appointed without any kind of training. I do not have a political science degree or a background in military tactics, which I could really use sometimes.
In fact, I was appointed to several other positions that I also did not get trained in.
As if being the dictator isn’t a demanding, full-time job, somehow, I also was appointed to be a lawyer, a judge, CEO, COO, and CFO. I am the Head of Sanitation, the Head of Transportation, the taxi driver, teacher, a personal shopper, counselor, nurse, project manager, social media coordinator, organizer, and, well, everything else.
I wasn’t trained in any of these things. Yes, someone taught me how to drive, but nobody told me that as the Head of Transportation I would also have to navigate safety seats, arrange riders in a manner in which they can’t hit or spit on another one, and then punish them when they do – while driving.
I was certainly not prepared to balance a budget that includes t-ball uniforms, field trips, the occasional classroom snacks, crayons to replace the ones the dog ate, and the never-ending purchase of pants that get holes in them the same day you cut the tags off.
As Organizer, I wasn’t trained for only half of a pair of socks to disappear. I wasn’t prepared for mud stains in the laundry room or picky eaters in the kitchen.
As Teacher, I have no clue how to instruct my children on how to tackle the taunts of playground bullies, the confusion of “gender fluidity,” or the pressures of long division. That’s a lot for one teacher to handle.
As a Therapist, I wasn’t prepared for emotional meltdowns about friendship drama in the third grade. I don’t know exactly how to guide someone else on what to do when no one will play with you on the playground.
I have no clue what an infection looks like that you should be concerned about, but somehow those things only show up on the weekend or during a holiday. I have to make critical decisions about when to go to urgent care and when to wait.
Then there’s the best job, and my most favorite, but another one I wasn’t prepared for. As mom, I wasn’t prepared to watch my child go to kindergarten. I wasn’t prepared for my daughter to have her first crush. I wasn’t prepared for my toddler to have a meltdown in public or the crunchy noise that a loose tooth makes when you pull it. I wasn’t prepared for the first broken bone or the challenges of childcare when I went back to work.
Sometimes my job is fun! Sometimes the dictator takes off the rules hat and puts on the cruise director cap and lets everyone play in muddy puddles. Then I put on the laundromat uniform and wash all the muddy clothes and bathe all the kids.
This is a job, this is lots of jobs, I wasn’t trained for. I feel wholly unprepared and ill-equipped.
I’m thankful I don’t do it alone. I have a partner, a teammate and a friend in my husband. We share jobs when we are tired, and we pass off to the other the ones we aren’t that great at doing. I have a mom who keeps teaching and training me, as well. I have a community that supports and encourages me.
And at night, I may be the only CEO on the planet whose clients run and jump in their lap and give them a big hug and kiss.
Despite a few complaints about vegetables and limited TV time, mostly my kids don’t really complain about the job I am doing. They are well-loved, well-fed (mostly… I admit there’s probably too much high fructose corn syrup in their diet), and they get lots of kisses. My clients are loving and nice and don’t really seem to notice my flaws.
So while I never get “Employee of the Month,” I am glad I have the honor of trying to earn it.
