Brian is a Delta Medallion Member. I’ve heard a lot about this the past couple of months. And I’ve rolled my eyes a lot over the past couple of months. Due to Brian’s frequent travel on Delta (mostly business trips to Idaho), they have upgraded him to Medallion status. This status brings several perks: priority boarding and seating, unlimited complimentary upgrades (with a personal phone call informing you that you have been upgraded). I’m also guessing complimentary foot rubs and Super Size Diet Cokes are involved.
Brian left today for a week in Salt Lake and Idaho. I can handle a week of single parenting—I have my routine, I love less dinner hassle—a week is very do-able, and it’s that magic space of time, where by the end, the void feels so huge that we are ecstatic to have him home.
Last night Brian casually mentioned that he received a phone call from Delta yesterday informing him that he has been upgraded to First Class on the way to and from Salt Lake. “So let me get this straight”, I said, “you get to fly without children, reading a book, with unlimited Diet Coke (can you tell that Diet Coke is involved in my idea of luxury), having time to yourself, while I am wrestling small children at home? And now you get to fly First Class?” I was insensed. “WHERE ARE MY PERKS?”
Okay, I know, I know. I have them, too. And as Brian responded, “in our childrens’ universe, you are numero uno.” True. I’m the primary caretaker and the mom—it’s only natural. And yes, I wouldn’t trade that, but I wouldn’t mind some tangible, worldly perks thrown in there, too. I was also quickly reminded that often he is actually doing work on those flights. Valid point. But still… my job doesn’t include any travel perks or swanky hotel stays, no per diem, no Christmas party, no “take the rest of the day off!” days, no bonuses. I mean, I’d settle for a “great job” or a “well done” once in awhile.
Both of our jobs are hard. I know that. Brian is profoundly grateful that I am so dedicated to mine, and I am of course equally grateful he is so committed to his. But the defining difference between them is what stay-at-home moms have been screaming for decades…or perhaps centuries—there is no outside praise or compensation for our 24-hour labor (not to mention the labor that got the kids here in the first place). I can’t really envision a way that that could ever change, nor do I think I want it to. It would somehow violate the sacredness of shaping these little souls.
However, it doesn’t eliminate my right to complain about Medallion-dom...in good fun of course.
So I’m thinking I may need to create a Mother Medallion Level. Just like Medallion status is earned based on mileage accrual, the Mother Medallion Level also functions on an accrual basis. You know, like an extra girls’ night out after you’ve reached 50 tantrums in public or an expensive dinner out after you’ve reached cooked 100 of your own (3.65 fancy dinners per year seems reasonable to me.)
Hmmm…I think I’ve hit upon something. Perhaps I’ll use this next week in Brian’s absence to draft the details and then leave it on his pillow.
Brian left today for a week in Salt Lake and Idaho. I can handle a week of single parenting—I have my routine, I love less dinner hassle—a week is very do-able, and it’s that magic space of time, where by the end, the void feels so huge that we are ecstatic to have him home.
Last night Brian casually mentioned that he received a phone call from Delta yesterday informing him that he has been upgraded to First Class on the way to and from Salt Lake. “So let me get this straight”, I said, “you get to fly without children, reading a book, with unlimited Diet Coke (can you tell that Diet Coke is involved in my idea of luxury), having time to yourself, while I am wrestling small children at home? And now you get to fly First Class?” I was insensed. “WHERE ARE MY PERKS?”
Okay, I know, I know. I have them, too. And as Brian responded, “in our childrens’ universe, you are numero uno.” True. I’m the primary caretaker and the mom—it’s only natural. And yes, I wouldn’t trade that, but I wouldn’t mind some tangible, worldly perks thrown in there, too. I was also quickly reminded that often he is actually doing work on those flights. Valid point. But still… my job doesn’t include any travel perks or swanky hotel stays, no per diem, no Christmas party, no “take the rest of the day off!” days, no bonuses. I mean, I’d settle for a “great job” or a “well done” once in awhile.
Both of our jobs are hard. I know that. Brian is profoundly grateful that I am so dedicated to mine, and I am of course equally grateful he is so committed to his. But the defining difference between them is what stay-at-home moms have been screaming for decades…or perhaps centuries—there is no outside praise or compensation for our 24-hour labor (not to mention the labor that got the kids here in the first place). I can’t really envision a way that that could ever change, nor do I think I want it to. It would somehow violate the sacredness of shaping these little souls.
However, it doesn’t eliminate my right to complain about Medallion-dom...in good fun of course.
So I’m thinking I may need to create a Mother Medallion Level. Just like Medallion status is earned based on mileage accrual, the Mother Medallion Level also functions on an accrual basis. You know, like an extra girls’ night out after you’ve reached 50 tantrums in public or an expensive dinner out after you’ve reached cooked 100 of your own (3.65 fancy dinners per year seems reasonable to me.)
Hmmm…I think I’ve hit upon something. Perhaps I’ll use this next week in Brian’s absence to draft the details and then leave it on his pillow.
7 comments:
Haha-- I think you stumbled upon something here. All of the firms keep taking Nate to these amazing places and serving him filet mignon while I have the child who REFUSES a a bottle and other food so I've never been away from the little darling more than 2 hours ever. When you figure out what the Mother Medallion perks are, send them my way!
No, it isn't fair. I TRY to remember that if I had my dream job outside of the home that I would still not be happy about waking up to shower and get dressed and go away from the people I really want to be with for hours on end. (Although, the taking a shower and getting dressed sounds great right now, I know it would get old.) I would like to see your draft, I may implement your program in my own life. And, BTW, GREAT JOB!
You have DEFINITELY earned the Medallion Mom Award-- you are way above platinum, my dear. The down side is that you may not feel like you've earned it for a long, long time. But think about your mom and how fulfilled and proud she is when she looks at you and your siblings -- she sees the awards of all her efforts reflected in Ella and Samantha and she knows that there's a swanky hotel and a stack of great books waiting in heaven for her!! But, I totally get where you're at. I used to be happy when Monday came and I could go to work and get some rest :)
Outstanding. Sign me up, right now. Let's totally figure out the rewards system.
I think they sell mom medallions in the grocery store. Check the freezer. It's called Ben & Jerry's or something like that.
Nicely put. I too would like to know what the Mother Medallion perks are. :)
Looking back it seems like I was taking one of the kids to the emergency room everytime Cal was out of town. About the Mother Medallion--we need to think of something great.
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