Tim got home from work a little early, yesterday. He asked me what I'd done all day. This question is baffling. I had no idea, on first reflection, what I did yesterday. The time had passed with a stunningly low level of apparent productivity, yet I had been occupied in constant activity.
In thinking it through, I decided that my mundane tasks were more important than I'd realized. During the day, while Tim is at work, I go about Making Things. This is how I fill my time.
Yesterday, for instance, I made breakfast, lunch and dinner. I made a mess. I made my bed. I made myself presentable. I made my children do their chores and schoolwork. I made my husband happy, I made my children grumpy, I made some phone calls. I made a trip up to my son's elementry school, where I made copies for the teacher, and I made arts-and-crafts for the students. I made time for each of my children. I made time to read and pray. After dinner, I made my son do dishes. I made the kids go to bed. And, finally, I made some peaceful time for Tim and I.
I am a creator.
In the wise words of my Granny Ruth, "A man may work from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never done."
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