I Am the Tonjinator: who am I

06 August 2012

What the Sam Hill is a Tonjinator?

Who is the Tonjinator, you ask?

The Tonjinator, aka Mandy or Mommy or Mrs. T, is the wife of the Tonj, who will be nameless through the life of this blog. You see, the Tonj enjoys his privacy. Poor thing married the wrong woman for that. Plus, when I was pregnant for the first child, we bought a house a mile from the one he was raised in. And unfortunately for the Tonj, he was blessed with a surname shared by only three households in all of central Ohio - Yes, we are related to the other two. So, everywhere I go, I am asked, "Do you know J--- Tonj---?" because he inevitably went to high school with, or dated the child of, or sold an appliance to the inquisitor. And I'm forced to reply, "Yep, he's my husband." Fortunately, he no longer sells appliances, or I would be unable to be the stay-at-home mother of our two darling children.

WHAT THE TONJINATOR DOES

Wimps need not apply. Duties always include:

· Oscar-caliber performances of various kinds for youngsters and/or spouse;

· wiping countertops, snotty noses, and children's bottoms;

· cooking gourmet-caliber meals which are usually eaten by no one but the chef;

· transporting youngsters to schools, practices and lessons, all doctor appointments; attending all school functions such as orientations, conferences (especially fun when the spouse attends and the teacher looks like a supermodel), PTO and school board meetings;

· conquering daily mountains o’laundry, which often include clean articles of clothing which have been thrown on the floor and ended up in the laundry sorter I was supposed to stencil in the spring of 2012;

· picking up messes which “may or may not” have been made by my daughters or me;

· tolerating the weirdness that is the Tonj, who is the drumming, commercial lender of a husband. Fortunately, he picks up after himself, most of the time.

An avid reader of anything from classics to smut to trashy autobiographies to serious nonfiction. The occasional glass of wine and mani-pedis late on Saturday night – That’s how I roll.