Apparently that’s me. (Or so I was told.) How’s that for contrasting blog titles? Now that I have jolted your attention, on with the story. HA!
The last weekend in June The Narrator and I celebrated our 11th anniversary by attending a co-worker’s wedding on Captiva Island. It was a beautiful day (albeit hot and sticky). The bride was gorgeous and the sunset and storm that rolled in (after the ceremony!) were stunning. Since The Narrator works for a company with only about a dozen employees, this wasn’t your typical co-worker’s wedding scenario. We actually know all of his co-workers and their spouses/significant others, and it’s like a mini-family type situation.
The bride and groom smartly seated all of us together, in the very, very back corner of the reception hall. Actually, we weren’t even in the same room as the reception!! We were in an adjoining room connected to the main hall with french doors. We all laughed when we saw our table. I can imagine the seating discussion, â€œYour co-workers are all coming? That’s nice; they can sit here in the very back corner of the adjoining room. We’ll put them next to the bar so they really won’t mind, and they can have all the fun they want without disrupting anyone else!â€ She is one smart, smart, smart bride. The groom did well for himself!
This past year, the company hired their first female employee. I felt badly for her at first, because I know how boy-ish the office can get. But she quickly proved she can handle her own, and all of them.Â The Narrator and I had not had a chance to get to know her husband yet, so we thoroughly enjoyed some great conversation with him over dinner. He’s career military and was stationed in Alaska for awhile (The Narrator was born there and his family has spent a lot of time in Alaska). We had delightful conversation and enjoyed getting to know their story a little more.
A few days ago, The Narrator came home from work and said, â€œApparently you made a good impression on K’s husband.â€ I raised my eyebrows and waited for the explanation. He smiled and said, â€œShe told me he said you had a se(x)y intelligent vibe about you.â€ I started laughing out loud. The Narrator grinned. (For the record, the day The Narrator passed this compliment along, I had not taken a shower, I had no makeup on, and I was exhausted from lots of whining.)
The part that meant the most to me was the intelligent part of the compliment. The Narrator reminded me that he is a fairly high-ranking military officer who works with intelligent people and issues every day. This confirms that motherhood has not turned my brain to mush. After a day that has been full of whining and sibling disputes, Dora and potty talk, I often wonder about the state of my brain cells. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that my brain often feels like mush not from lack of use, but rather from over-use.
As I pondered this topic a little more, I began to realize that motherhood has taught me invaluable people skills that I failed to gain in 8 Â½ years in the work place. Motherhood is certainly trial by fire in the people skill department. In fact, I have a theory that mother’s intuition is founded in our ability to subconsciously observe. That â€œeyes in the back of our headâ€ really is just that â€“ eyes buried in our subconscious mind that are always observing and taking in our environments. I think that God flips a switch in women that is permanently â€œonâ€ once they become a mom. We know when kids are sick before they do. We know when a new tooth is coming in because of the type of fuss and chewing. We know when they have to go potty just by the look in her eyes and slight wiggle of the hips. There are thousands of nonverbal cues that we have internalized and just â€œknowâ€ what they mean. Our brains really are incredible.
Those little people skills translate well into big people skills too, I believe. I’ve found myself unconsciously observing people and conversations, and sometimes I walk away from an interaction sensing much more than what was actually said. My senses and spirit often are tuned in to a frequency that I had missed prior to motherhood.
I’m just beginning my motherhood journey. I can only imagine how in-touch my brain will be in another 15 years!