(Last year. I finished editing my 92-year-old mother’s memoirs and had them printed for her to give to family members as holiday gifts. Here is one about what life was like for her as the mother of three boys and a husband on the road. Of added interest, I’m including the voice of her granddaughter Stephanie reading the story. The little bit of Spanish you hear at the start is Stephanie providing context to her Spanish husband, Moises. –Andy)

A Day in My Life as a Mother

by Carib Smallman

Most important to my life as a mother was Al’s job. For thirty-two years, he worked as a salesman and then as Division Manager for E. J. Brach and Sons, a Chicago based candy company. Travel was important to his job. His territory, while we were in Omaha, Nebraska, was the northern half of Nebraska, southeastern South Dakota and western Iowa. He was on the road Monday through Friday two weeks out of four. In addition to sales meetings, which happened at least quarterly and took up part of a weekend, he spent five times a year out of town over a weekend. I missed him, but what I missed more was having some time to myself. Without him and his help with the boys, those almost two weeks seemed endless.

By summer of 1965, we had three boys: Scott, going on 6, Steve, 3. and Andy, 2. My day started when Scott would wake at seven a.m. Steve and Andy were close behind. As I helped with getting them dressed, before I started a load of wash, the boys discussed what they wanted for breakfast. After loading the washer, I made the beds and prepared breakfast. Then I supervised tooth brushing and carried the clean clothes out to hang on the line, while the boys played in their rooms. As I look back on those mornings, it makes me tired.

The tract houses near ours were occupied by families composed of two parents and two to four kids. This provided plenty of playmates for our three. A few of the mothers worked full time. Over the eleven years we lived there, five of the households became like family. Several of us keep in touch to this day.

Often on a summer morning, my closest neighbor, Eunice, would call across the yard, “How about some iced tea?”

Norma, on the other side of our house, hanging newly clean wash on her clothesline, would call back that she would be over in a few minutes.

“Sounds good to me!” I shouted, as I returned inside to gather up the boys.

Eunice would set up two small tables, with chairs for the eight kids. She had KoolAid and cookies for them. Eunice had three girls and a boy, Norma had one girl and was pregnant, and I had our three boys. Eunice’s oldest girl, Shelley, and Scott were the same age, the oldest of the group. The gang played well together with not too many squabbles. It was a nice break for us moms to be able to talk to other adults for forty-five to sixty minutes. The three of us took turns hosting the gang.

But my favorite time of day came after lunch. I’d quickly wash the dishes. “Story time!” I’d call. I never used the word nap.

The four of us would climb onto Al’s and my king-size bed, snuggling up so everyone could see the pictures. We all rested while I read Winnie the Pooh or The House at Pooh Corner. We also read our way through Wind in the Willows, which I had never read as a kid. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle was another favorite. Andy and Steve would most often fall asleep. Scott knew he needed to stay quiet until I got up. Looking back, I see how much those books affected the boys. Even now, when we gather, there is often some quote or reference to a character. At family gatherings someone will mention something that brings back a quote – “They’re changing guards at Buckingham Palace,” immediately from another voice – “Christopher Robin went down with Alice.” We all remember Mr. Toad and his motorcar. Occasionally, we have been on a bridge over a small creek and played “Poohsticks.”

Omaha is miserably hot and humid in the summer. Scott and Steve enjoyed playing outside for a while in the afternoon, but were soon happy to be inside with our air conditioner. How pleased I still am, decades later, to have chosen an air conditioner over carpeting when we moved in!

Bath time came after dinner and dishes. Three boys in a tub! How crazy can it get? I let them play as long as they could keep peace. I enjoyed sitting beside the tub, swiping at the boys’ faces with a washcloth, as they propelled their boats in the water.

On a “short week” for Al, he would be home by Friday night. On Saturday, after lunch and with dishes done, I would take the car, all by myself, and go wherever I wanted. “See you for dinner, guys!,” I would call as I walked out the door.

I can still feel the soothing quietness outside the house. I love being a mother, and now a grandmother and a great-grandmother, but every adult needs some quiet time away from children, even a short time.