The Toughest Job You'll Ever . . . WHAT?

Okay, so while I do have an important job hunt tidbit to update you on (coming later), I have more pressing topics to discuss regarding a difficult day of parenting, which is in fact the toughest job you'll ever love no matter how corny that is. So, within 15 minutes of my 9 month old Charlie awakening from his peaceful sleep, his brother has literally tackled him to the floor in the likeness of Hulk Hogan versus Peewee Herman. Hence visit to the naughty chair #1 of the day. The rest of the morning goes surprisingly smoothly - mainly because it's raining outside and I allow my oldest child to watch Toy Story (new obsession) which is 60 more minutes of TV than we normally get during the course of the morning. Charlie is napping and life is good. I decide to sew for a little while. Little do I know that danger is lurking nearby. I suddenly hear a crash, an "uh oh", and little boy feet running through my house. Jon Thomas has decided to play baseball with a wooden spoon and the Christmas ornaments (the ones that are actually on the tree). Oh boy, he's hit a homerun! There in the floor is the beautiful red Christmas tree ornament in about 300,000 pieces on my CARPET! Oh Holy Night! That was not a fun thing to clean up! So I clean it up and move on. I need to make cookies for Jon Thomas to take to the teachers at his school tomorrow since it's his last day before the big break. Well, I go to the ladies room after having gotten out all the ingredients. I come back and lo and behold there's a mountain of flour from the 1/2 full sack of flour on the counter - underneath I discover a measuring cup. Jon Thomas says, "Mommy, I was doing you a favorite (translation - favor) and helping you measure for the cookies". NO naughty chair for that - hello, how can you not giggle at a kid covered in flour because he's doing a favorite? So, I'm shooting for the big time here people - I was going to have (all in the same day) taken reasonably good care of TWO kids, baked cookies, fixed dinner, monogrammed countless hair bows, put together the family gingerbread house (albeit with the hot glue gun rather than the recommended icing), AND bathed everyone before the Daddy comes in from work. Imagine Jon Thomas playing in the tub. Charlie crawls in sweetly and pulls up to the side. I go for the camera. By the time I get back I'm hearing a little boy say, "wet Charlie" repeatedly. I actually enter the room to see Jon Thomas pouring cup after cupful of water on my little Charlie's head. Charlie is, of course, loving it. Me, not so much! But we finally eat, decorate the house and all are finally asleep! Whew!

Now for the job offer. I've applied at several local museums thinking they could surely use my education expertise (I was a teacher for crying out loud)! Well, I got a call from the Space and Rocket Center. They would like for me to be a team leader for their programs starting in January. This HR woman literally talks to me for a full five minutes about teaching children to think for themselves, shaping their futures, and has me going hook, line and sinker. All I need to do is come down and fill out the paperwork. I am feeling good - getting to be in a quasi-teaching role again, working part-time, and shaping our future leaders - I am definitely in. Then she lays it on me - $7.95/hr. Please explain to me how anyone can really be expected to mold and shape young minds for that kind of cash? I can't even think of a remark sassy enough to describe how the conversation went from there - downhill, quick.