Everybody keeps saying, "What are you doing?" or "You need to get a job."

Last week, I did a salary survey at a salary.com for just my job as housewife and mother. Applying the lowest estimate of time spent per duty, including 0 hours cooking, my compensation should be approximately $213,00 per year. I could write volumes trying to explain, "a woman's work is never done." There are not enough words or time in my life to pen the respects I have for all mothers. What you do right. What you do wrong. What we don't know what to do. How little you are respected. How much of your work unappreciated.

Yesterday, I fought the Atlantic Ocean. I am afraid of the murky waters and what I can't see. Afraid of the unknown. I fought the pounding forces of the waves as I connected my mind with and flexed every one of my abdominal muscles. I tightened through the pain in my liver that still makes me sick. I fought the force of those waves crashing in on me. I would not let them knock me down. I walked through the tide, all the muscles in my legs fighting to take one step forward, then forced three steps back.

Today, I remember the joy of a moment: my teenage friend, Katie, and I standing in the shallow beach of the Atlantic Ocean, both afraid of the water, walking slowly, deeper into our fear and her saying, "It's like life." Yes, Katie it is. But, I'm still mad as hell, 'cause I don't ever want you or another to have to feel the pain of fighting all those waves.
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I wouldn't write my words if I hadn't thought them through

I wouldn't desire wisdom from you who are my superior wiser, if I didn't need to teach the lesson in return

I have walked into every fear of what you think I should do

I have done it and you have forgotten

You haven't forgotten and not forgiven

I'm not ready to make nice, if you won't listen

I've proved myself

Please listen

Finally, a musical expression what my life is: Dixie Chick's "Not Ready To Make Nice". Please watch and listen. It's all a woman wants to make nice.