An Open Letter to People Who Tell Me I'm Not Using My Brain Enough

Dear well-intentioned person telling me I'm not using my brain enough these days:

    I know. First, let me compliment you on being the 75,000th person to tell me this. You've won this blog post.
     I understand that what you are trying to say is that I am smart and I could do a lot with those smarts, so one one hand, thank you. In some alternate universe, I have a few degrees and I am advising some schmoozy Democratic candidate for a state-level office while feeling bad for his wife because she doesn't know about one shady thing or another.
    In this universe, I have a kid. Kids require time. Someone has to watch them and make sure they don't run into traffic or fall off of a table or drown themselves in the bath tub. Someone has to read to them and hug them and teach them how to point at their nose when you ask and sing the itsy bitsy spider 100 times a day. That person is me.
    I LOVE being a mom. I don't want strangers to raise my kid. I want to be the one to kiss his boo boos and teach him the ABCs. Don't get me wrong, I have the utmost respect for working and student moms. It's not easy to balance children and other things, and I imagine it is emotionally complicated as well. All the supermoms out there deserve mad props. I am not that woman, though. The thought of trying to be a mom and work and go to school all at once gives me hives. I'm lazy.
     This brings me to the "go back to school" crowd. Let me assure you that aside from in my family's presence, a classroom is the first place I want to be. I miss school. DESPERATELY at times. I plan to go back to school. My husband and I have discussed it. It is not going to pay for itself. When we figure out how to finance and schedule it, it will happen. Let's leave it at that.
     While I understand that it is in a complimentary spirit that you are telling me these things, you are not telling me anything I don't already know. There is something profoundly frustrating about being told things you know by numerous people. It starts to make you feel like your flaws are more pronounced than they are. It makes you question things. I don't want to question things.
     I have heard that happiness is less an emotion than an absence of other emotions. That if you can comment on how happy you are, you probably aren't all that happy, because true happiness is something you don't have to reflect on. Most days I don't have to reflect. I simply enjoy the day-to-day and laugh at little things like babies dancing and pugface. Would I change some things, looking back? Sure. But I am relatively content, and I'm optimistic about getting my brain back in the game at some point in the future. For now, my kid is my number one priority by a mile or two. So for now, chill out.

Deal? Deal.
Love, Julia