The Dragonslayer’s Wife. Queen Mother of two Knights of The Realm. Keeper of the castle. Dame of The Order of Goldfish. Empress of Errands. Mistress of Meals. Writer betimes. Luckiest woman in the world.
There are manifold reasons I could cite to explain the title of my blog. Some distorted idolization of the Kennedy family is not among them, not the least of which because that construction was, even by contemporary standards, an illusion. My preoccupation with medieval culture and Arthurian lore is just moderate — though perhaps more than most Americans’ — so it’s not entirely to blame.
Probably the most important reason is that it seems such an apt description of my life. A life which is, in a word, charmed. By no means is it perfect, or even particularly exceptional, but I am unmistakably and undeservedly blessed.
Sometimes I call myself The Anti-Feminist. I’m one of those “gender traitors” who actually relishes staying at home with my children. I know there are many selfless women out there who pack their careers in the mothballs in order to be at home for their kids, still looking forward to the day their little ones grow up and they can pull those ambitions back out of the closet and don them once more.
Bravo for said mothers! I am not such a one.
Don’t get me wrong. I love adult conversation. And lunching. And professional accomplishment. And shoes with no treads on them. And paychecks.
But not enough to ever want to “go back to work” in the usual sense.
Truth is, I think I’m spoiled for traditional employment. After almost five years of home-based non-business, I don’t think I could hack it again. For starters, I hate being told what to do. I hate schedules. I hate meetings. Phone calls. Emails. Tasks. Blah.
I love naps. And toddler dimples. And books. And the DVR. And four-year-old imaginations. And snuggles. And homemade cookies. I love reigning over my little kingdom with a hairclip tiara and a spatula sceptre.
My Knight-In-Shining-Armor handles the slaying of beasts and the replenishment of the castle treasury with characteristic aplomb. And that’s just for starters. He is my hero. From which peril would he shrink in service to his lady? “None,” quoth she.
That said, my life is not flawless, in circumstance, attitude or behavior. After all, here there be Laundry.
I have lots of aspirations about being the perfect mother, the perfect wife, balancing it all with saintly charity work, literary success and a slammin’ bod. And then the moment passes and I flop on the couch to have some chocolate and bleed the DVR dry.
But so, too, was Camelot a society of human nature, “red in tooth and claw” — men and women at their worst and best. People attempting noble and ignoble deeds and finding failure or success as they can. If in no other way, at least in that sense, Camelot was real.
Which fits my life. I spend my days raising two little dimpled imps who will someday, I hope, become the courageous, chivalrous and idealistic Knights-In-Shining-Armor of tomorrow. (Lord, help us to do it right. I think we could use a few more of those out there.)
Idyllic but not utopic. Imperfect but idealistic at the same time. It will do for now.
Thanks for stopping by!