Emily was renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's office. The Clerk was obviously a career woman, poised, efficient, and possessed of a high sounding title like, "Official Interrogator" or "Town Registrar."

"What is your occupation?" the Clerk asked.
Emily hesitated, uncertain how to classify herself. She was, after all, a Mom.
"What I mean is," explained the Clerk, "do you have a job, or are you just a ..."
"Of course I have a job," said Emily. "I'm a Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

The Clerk paused, ballpoint pen frozen in midair, and looked up as though she had not heard right.
"Might I ask," said the Clerk with new interest, "just what you do in your field?"

Coolly, without any trace of fluster in her voice, Emily replied,

"I have a continuing program of research, in the laboratory and in the field
(like ... inside and outside the house).
I'm working for my Masters, and already have three credits
(2 boys and a girl).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in the humanities, and I often work 16 hours a day
(and often 24).
But the job is more challenging than most run-of-the-mill careers.
The rewards are more of a satisfaction rather than just money."

There was increasing respect in the Clerk's voice as she completed the form, stood up, and personally ushered Emily to the door.

As Emily drove into her driveway, buoyed up by her glamorous new career, she was greeted by her lab assistants - ages 6, 3.
Upstairs she could hear the new experimental model (6 months old) in the child-development program, testing out a new vocal pattern.

She had gone on the official records as someone more distinguished and indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."

Motherhood. What a glorious career!

Does this make grandmothers "Senior Research Associates in the field of Child Development and Human Relations"?