DOWNTOWN NOTEBOOK

Motherhood/Multi-task either way it’s not easy

By Wickham Boyle

What used to be called motherhood is now termed multitasking in a trend that has the world gone business school jargon crazy.

This morning, my husband’s birthday, I got up, made coffee, got the kids off to school and contemplated my day for a good two minutes before I came up with an insane mother plan, oh sorry multi-tasking method, for tackling my very disorderly, ooops again, diversely-challenged day.

My husband is traveling on business, he asked for a birthday cake, no gifts, just a special cake. He also would probably like me to take off my gym clothes and wash the gray out of my hair. One of my editors would like a rewrite on the most recent profile I penned and I had promised myself that I would finish the taxes. So we have cooking, hairdressing, writing and finance. Since I know my life I am aware there will be sorties into interior design and veterinary science.

I began by re-upping on the coffee. When I worked on Wall St. there was a full kitchen with pots of Starbucks at the ready. We had done the I.P.O. for Starbucks, no of course I don’t still have it; I sold it when it made a few bucks and I went on buying the next miracle until I found a stock that made no money and trapped me, but thanks for asking.

Caffeine ingested, I preheat the oven, of course forgetting the chicken from last night, still inside. We will return to that. I made a brief detour into washing the kitchen window since it distracted me with grime, I usually don’t notice the dirty window since I usually cook only at night. Now oven on, I begin to make the cake, devils food. Melting chocolate and OOOH, I should check my e-mail. So put the chocolate on a double boiler, go to the office and start on e-mail. Delete all the offers of bigger breasts and larger penises. I wonder, is there really a market for both in one client? Ads to find lower mortgages, I did that one. Now I go into war related messages, oh I forgot to add pacifist strategist to my job description. Send out messages, forward, fax and the chocolate is melted.

By this time I smell the chicken and take out the pan, wow there will be some dishwashing magic required here. I begin to mix all the dry ingredients with the butter and chocolate, add the eggs.  I am almost done when the kitten jumps onto the edge of the bowl. I save the bowl, but he is a very chocolatey little fella. And he seems to love it. Remember the vet part?

I use some vegetable oil to grease the cake pans and then I notice that the old, oak table looks really dry, so being the daughter of a Depression mom, I use the good, greasy paper towel to rejuvenate the table. It looks great, then the kitten reappears, He has cleaned off the chocolate and now has saffron oil to deal with. I lock him in the office and put the cake in the oven.

I have opened the package of L’Oreal, “because I am worth it,” however I am not worth having the hairdresser do my hair anymore since we began paying college tuition. I don’t want to tell my husband this, so I try to do my hair when he is away then we don’t need to have the conversation about, “why won’t I spend money on myself?” Let’s leave that for the shrink’s office, which of course is also a luxury that is waiting until after college. Imagine all these badly coifed, crazy moms after college is over, emerging as sane, well-dressed coifed women. Who will know us?

I put on the rubber glove, mush the chemical sauce into my hair, set a second timer. Old age disease, one is for the cake, one for my head. Oh God please don’t let me get them confused. I’ll use the one that looks like a pear for the cake, food to food and the one that looks industrial, for my head. Can’t work without a head, that’s the mnemonic I’ll use. Note to other mothers, it is a good idea to clean up all the chocolate residue on your face before applying hair dye since the dark color can be confusing without glasses and who wants to lick the L’Oreal, even if you are worth it.

I realize I have a half hour until the cake and hair are done so I sit down to write this because in my head, the idea that multitasking is a phenomenon invented in the business world is totally hilarious. I watched my mother, grandmother and all the women I know pursue tasks, careers and life styles that were diverse, wide ranging and utterly unconnected. They expected they would do all the work that needed to be done to move the day along, no matter how diverse.

Okay the timer just went off, but since it is in the other room I can’t see which one it is. Gotta go.