I can't think. I can't think. I am doing a load of whites. I am making sandwiches. I am gluing decorations for the coffee social at church. No, actually, I am slathering Vick's Vapo-Rub under Charlie's snot-soaked t-shirt while peanut butter and scrapbook paper and dirty socks sputter through my cranial mess of smoldering, sparking wires.
I hate it when I get like this. When I have so many things to do, so many unrelated, taskly things, that I stumble around completely zombified, unable to finish even one of them.
Why do I need peanut butter? When I press my fingers to my temples I imagine my brain's secretary fumbling for the file amid a cluttered, coffee-smelling office. You are hideously inept I say as she stares back guiltily.
We don't have time to fight because Toby's shoes were mysteriously summoned to Jesus, again. I send Greg outside to dig in the outdoor trash bin. “We should just buy new," he mumbles.
"Sometimes it’s the principle!" I yell because more than anything I want to know how shoes can vanish inexplicably.
I step over Charlie who is now driving a train on the bedroom floor. "Charlie? Where are Toby's shoes?" I ask hopefully when I notice poop falling out the back of his diaper. For the love!!!
I whisk him to the bathroom for a strip and rinse, trying to decide exactly why I'm gagging. Is it his poop-smeared back or the rope of green snot sliding down his upper lip? I sacrifice a whole bar of soap to the cause as I scrub the offending orifices. Now bleaching the bath-tub is following peanut butter through my frontal lobe like a tourist asking for directions. Except that peanut butter answers in confused French and it's obvious that NO ONE KNOWS WHAT'S GOING ON IN THERE!
Are there mothers somewhere darning fluffy-toed socks while their good-smelling offspring sort the recycling and eat beets? Children in some dry, remote corner of Arizona who never have sinusitis or crusty eye goo? How did I end up here, raising shoeless, allergy-ridden vegetable-haters, searching for poo in my carpet?
God why is this ridiculous exercise in anarchy part of it all? Why am I LOSING MY MIND?
I finally get them to bed and it is quiet. Instead of reading, or watching Grey's Anatomy, here I am clinking out the whole dirty mess of it for posterity. God, is it this? This now, sitting down to capture the wild confusion of our day? I roll each moment in my palm like a precious stone and it doesn’t seem exasperating anymore. It reminds me of how much I love this life, these children of mine, for whom I give all of my sanity. For whom it is an honor.
Posts
2 months ago
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteSometimes your writing is good and sometimes (well, for you it is more like most of the time) it is mind blowingly good.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what those things are called when you send articles in to places to be published but tomorrow you need to do one for this article and send it to every magazine you can think of even if you don't think this article is good enough -- I think it is. And I am pretty sure you are going to get several more comments that agree and totally relate to this post.
Andi, this post made me cry. I was up almost the entire night with my very sick little boy and feel like I am the maid to waaaay too many people. I woke up this morning feeling ready to explode and very much on the edge. But your post really hit the spot!
ReplyDeleteThere are many days that I ask God why moms have to endure the gross and mundane...what does it grow in us?
Your post reminded me that it IS an honor to serve these little people for this short time they will need us - pretty soon they will be able to wipe their own butts and noses. So, I'm going to take a deep breath and go clean something else for the millionth time, but I'll do it with a little less angst this time :)
Thanks!!!
Andi,
ReplyDeleteSeriously this is art. You manage to capture why it matters between the lines about why it's mundane and gross. I feel this way so often even though mine are older and then I feel guilty (thinking I'm surely the only one who dreads 'dailies' with her 'gifts of god') Thanks for being so vunerable and sharing your life and talent so the rest of us can remember our value.
Wonderful post my friend. Not too long ago, I realized that I was living a "have-to" life. I had to be kind to my hubby, I had to cook dinner, I had to change Katy's diaper, I had to go to Bible Study, well you get the drift. But, God took the blinders off of my heart and showed me what real joy is and now I live and love my "get-to" life. It's like what you were saying..it is an honor! An honor to serve our Lord with all of the little, mundane, repetitive things that we GET TO do. What an honor indeed!
ReplyDeleteHA-MAIN!! (aka amen)
ReplyDeleteI agree with the first comment post, Andi. This is undoubtedly art, as well as publish worthy. My heart skips a beat when I see you have a new story. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteawesome, andi. just so awesome!
ReplyDeleteAh you crack me up, I can just picture all that and the funny thing is that's a normal day. I'm glad you love your job, I'm sure your great at it. The best job ever, with the most responsibility!
ReplyDeleteBTW- running is going great! Getting ready for the 1/2 has been fun!
Amazing, Andi. That was so good.
ReplyDeleteI about to seriously write a post on poop. And how much I hate it. I actually wished Reese back into a pull up today so I wouldn't have to find her with poopy panties, stuffing way more toilet paper than the toilet or her bottom needs in the water, and crying for help.
ReplyDeletePre-schooler independence is way overrated. But....you have put this so well. It is an honor. When she's 16 and driving me to a new level of crazy I will treasure this moment.
loving it, Andi! good stuff out of life's tough stuff. good for you!
ReplyDeleteDang, you're good at this. I hope you are working on getting published everywhere.
ReplyDeleteGirl, you are such a fab writer. I want to be like you when I grow up! Ah poo...I already am grown up! And so are my kids. I believed no one when they said snot angels grow up faster than I thought. It happens. And when it does, you will wish...
ReplyDeletethey were in diapers again.