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But FIRST Syndrome
"I call it "But-First" Syndrome.
YOU know.
It's when you decide to do the laundry.
So you start down the stairs with the laundry, but then see the newspapers on the table.
OK, you'll do the laundry.
BUT FIRST you decide to put the newspapers away.
So on your way in to put the newspapers away, you notice the mail on the table.
OK, you'll put the newspapers away.
BUT FIRST you'll pay that bill that needs to be paid.
So you look for the checkbook.
Oops...there's the baby's bottle from yesterday on the floor.
OK, you'll pay the bill.
BUT FIRST you need to put the bottle in the sink.
You head for the kitchen.
Darn it, there's the remote for the TV.
What's it doing here?
Okay, you'll put the bottle in the sink.
BUT FIRST you need to put the remote away.
Head for the TV room.
Aaagh! Stepped on the cat.
Cat needs to be fed.
Okay, you'll put the remote away.
BUT FIRST you need to feed the cat...
So, here's what happens at the end of the day....
Laundry not done, newspapers on the floor, bottle on the table,
bills unpaid, checkbook still lost, cat ate the remote control......
And, when you try to figure out how come nothing got done all day,
you are baffled because...........................
you KNOW you were BUSY ALL DAY!!
That's the "BUT-FIRST" Syndrome."
Anonymous
The following is from an actual 1950's Home Economics textbook
1. Have dinner ready:
2. Prepare yourself:
3. Clear away clutter:
4. Prepare the children:
5. Minimize the noise:
6. Some DONT'S:
7. Make him comfortable:
8. Listen to him:
9. Make the evening his:
10. The Goal:
Now the updated version for the 90's woman
1. Have dinner ready.
2. Prepare yourself.
3. Clear away the clutter.
4. Prepare the children.
5. Minimize the noise.
6. Some DONT'S.
7. Make him comfortable.
8. Listen to him.
9. Make the evening his.
10. The Goal.
"Do you know what you and I are?" she demanded.
Before I could answer - and I didn't really have one handy
She had just returned from renewing her driver's license
"What I mean is," explained the recorder,
"Of course I have a job," snapped Emily. "I'm a mother."
"We don't list 'mother' as an occupation.
I forgot all about her story until one day I found myself in the same
situation,
The Clerk asked: "And what is your occupation?"
What made me say it, I do not know. The words simply popped out.
"Might I ask," said the clerk with new interest,
Coolly, without any trace of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply,
As I drove into our driveway buoyed up by my glamorous new career,
T'was the night before school started
How Time Have Change
This excerpt is from the Home Economics textbook in the '50s.
Well,
someone created a 90's version which is listed
after the original, for your
entertainment and enlightenment.
intended for High School girls,
teaching them how to prepare for married life.
Plan ahead, even the night before, to
have a delicious meal - on time.
This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him,
and are concerned about his needs.
Most men are hungry when they come home and
the prospects of a good meal are part of
the warm welcome needed.
Take 15 minutes to rest so you will be
refreshed when he arrives.
Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking.
He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.
Be a little gay and a little more interesting.
His boring day may need a lift.
Make one last trip through the main
part of the house
just before your husband arrives,
gathering up school books, toys, paper,etc.
Then run a dust cloth over the tables.
Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest
and order, and it will give you a lift too.
Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces
if they are small, comb their hair, and if necessary,
change their clothes.
They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part.
At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of washer, dryer, or vacuum.
Try to encourage the children to be quiet.
Greet him with a warm smile and be glad to see him.
Don't greet him with problems or complaints.
Don't complain he's late for dinner.
Count this as minor compared with what he
might have gone through that day.
Have him lean back in a comfortable
chair or
suggest he lay down in the bedroom.
Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.
Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes.
Speak in a low, soft, soothing and pleasant voice.
Allow him to relax and unwind.
You may have a dozen things to tell him, but
the moment of his arrival is not the time.
Let him talk first.
Never complain if he does not take you
out to dinner or
to other places of entertainment; instead try to understand his world
of strain and pressure and his need to be home and relax.
Try to make your home a place of peace
and order
where your husband can relax.
Make reservations ahead of time.
If your
day becomes too hectic just leave him a voice mail message
regarding where you'd like to eat and at what time.
This lets him know that your day has been crappy and
gives him an opportunity to change your mood.
A quick stop at the "LANCOME" counter on your way home
will do wonders for your outlook and will keep you from becoming
irritated every time he opens his mouth.
(Don't forget to use his credit card !)
Call the housekeeper and tell her
that any miscellaneous items left on the floor
by the children can be placed in the Goodwill box in the garage.
Send the children to their rooms to
watch television or play Nintendo.
After all, both of them are from his previous marriages.
If you happen to be home when he arrives,
be in
the bathroom with the door locked.
Don't greet
him with problems and complaints.
Let him speak first, and
then your complaints will get more attention and
remain fresh in
his mind throughout dinner.
Don't complain if he's late for dinner,
simply remind him that
the leftovers are in the fridge and
you left the dishes for him to do.
Tell
him where he can find a blanket
if he's cold.
This will really
show you care.
But don't ever let him get the last word.
Never complain if he does not take
you out to dinner
or other places
of entertainment;
go with a friend or go shopping (use his
credit card).
Familiarize him with the
phrase "Girls' Night Out!"
Try to keep things amicable without reminding him
that he only thinks the world
revolves around him.
Obviously he's wrong, it revolves around
you.
Research Associate
A few months ago, when I was picking up the children at school,
another
mother I knew well, rushed up to me.
Emily was fuming with indignation.
- she blurted out
the reason for her question.
at the County
Clerk's office.
Asked by the woman recorder to state her "occupation,"
Emily
had hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself.
"Do you have a job, or are you
just a . . . ?"
'Housewife' covers it," said the
recorder emphatically.
this time at our own Town Hall.
"I'm. . .a
Research Associate in the field of
Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ball-point pen frozen in mid-air,
and looked up as though
she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most
significant words.
Then I stared with wonder as my pompous pronouncement
was written in bold, black ink on the official questionnaire.
"just what you do in your
field?"
"I
have a continuing program of research [what mother doesn't]
in the
laboratory and in the field [normally I would have said indoors and out].
I'm working for my Masters [the whole family]
and already have four credits
[all daughters].
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the
humanities
[any mother care to disagree?] and I often work 14 hours a day
[24 is more like it]. But the job is more challenging than most
run-of-the-mill careers and the rewards are in satisfaction
rather than just
money."
There was an increasing note of respect in the clerk's voice
as she
completed the form, stood up,
and personally ushered
me to the door.
I was
greeted by my lab assistants - age 13, 7, and 3.
And upstairs, I could hear
our new experimental model (six months)
in the child-development program,
testing out a new vocal pattern.
I felt triumphant. I had scored a beat on
bureaucracy.
And I had gone down on the official records as someone more
distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another. . ."
School Nite
It's A School Night
when all through the town
The parents were cheering
It was a riotous sound
By eight the kids were washed
and tucked into bed
When memories of homework
Filled them with dread
New pencils, new folders, new
notebooks, too
New teachers, new friends-their
anxiety grew
The parents just giggled when they
learned of this fright
And shouted upstairs-
GO TO BED-IT'S A SCHOOL NIGHT!
homepage.
wizard's room.
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