The Fundamental Question

"So, are you still teaching?" he looked at me, drink in hand.
"No, no I have two children. I taught for about seven years until my daughter was born." I proudly state.
"So, what do you do now?" he asks.
What do I do now? Huh. Did he miss the two children part?
And then it hit me. The little wheel turning in my head that says, "Yeah...what exactly are you doing now?"

My thoughts raced to find the answer. I let myself search through the past five years looking for something, anything that would be remarkable to say that I have done. What have I done? What have I done that would translate to the working world as something formidable, valuable to the whole of mankind or at least those that work nine to five. All I could think of was trains (I now know a lot about trains), School House Rock (I can sing almost every song) and Nemo underwear . Is that all I got? Thomas, kid songs and underwear?
So, nothing.....nothing comes out. And we stand staring at one another.

He's an aide to a US attorney, lives in a beautiful place on top of a mountain with his new wife, also an attorney, no kids. He and I are on totally separate paths, that is really apparent. I know that. But why, after five years, I still stumble when asks what I do as a mom?

He's a great guy, very funny, but it really struck a cord this time. Why haven't I gotten it together yet?

When SD and I went to bed that night, the answer finally came to me. What do I do as a mom? I love my children. I love them until I feel like I couldn't love them any more at the end of the day. That's what I do. Plain and simple.
Why is it hard to find that answer sometimes?
I wonder.