Pick a desk Cherimie, and sit still


By Cherimie Crane Weatherford

It should have occurred to me at an earlier age that my path would be tattered with a few twists, turns and the occasional thorn-laden thicket. Life on more than one occasion has generously afforded me the opportunity to settle into a more normal existence. A comfortable couch of conformity. However, normal isn’t a flattering fit, and conforming gives me wrinkles. I seem to insist on doing the ill-advised, the best-nots and the really should nots. I have learned a thing or two about myself, my limits and my tolerance for discomfort. Apparently I have yet to master traditional habitudes of adulthood.

Often women talk of motherly maturity. That somewhat instantaneous enlightenment that comes from having a child. This “shining” of sorts passed right over me like the Sunday offering plate. The birth of my sweet little one brought about tremendous gifts, but instant enlightenment or profound wisdom has yet to join me for coffee. Some days it seems as though my intellect has dropped a degree or two. I am one who takes considerable pride in presenting a faux front of formidable ability. I am  hesitant to admit that working full time, caring for a mirrored-miniature, and attempting to maintain an acceptable level of self maintenance isn’t a walk among the roses. It is, however, a walk I thoroughly enjoy.

As if owning a small business and raising a small family isn’t enough to cause a small panic, I am once again dancing in the rain of real estate development. Delightful as the world of small business ownership certainly is, the ins- and all too assiduous outs of real estate lure my interest as effectively as red-velvet flavored anything. I find the implicit rule of one career per person eluding at best.

“Pick a desk Cherimie, and sit still.” Those prophetic words of my sweet second grade teacher resonate quite well. She did everything within the legal limits to keep me in one studious position. She was the first of many to travel that path of futility. One desk simply did not suit. Life has a way of repeating itself.

Watching the revitalizing breath rise in a sleeping community brings me joy.  Late nights, early mornings and action packed days, but joy nonetheless. Filling vacant land with vibrant life rivals watching daytime television any day of the week. Once again, I am walking sidewalks that will soon giggle and crossing streets poised to guide families home. I am unlocking doors that will open new chapters for many. My days are hectic, my slumber baited, and my hopes grand.

Having two careers isn’t popular and somedays it feels impossible. However, raising a family, running a business and revitalizing a community is my cup of sweet tea… sitting quaintly on as many desks as needed.

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