This, That and the Other

My middle kid (the one who told me that he hated me), in a fit of melancholy, told me that when I died he would visit my grave. We were listening to a particularly sad song on the radio. When I asked him if he was worried about me dying (thinking it might have something to do with my cancer), he told me "Yes, because you are so old". We were on our way to school (late, of course) and I thought maybe we should talk about this. When I asked his big brother if he was worried too, he said "No, because you aren't really that old", but he was mostly concerned about getting out of the car. He didn't care about his brother's emotional state as much as he cared about not getting a tardy slip. Mostly, the middle one didn't want to be inconvenienced by his parent's theoretical death because it would likely involve a move to a school without his best friend.

Sometimes my daughter likes to play a game called "Psycho Kitty". This game consists of her lying or sitting on my lap and looking at me with her tongue sticking out and to the side while she dementedly meows. For added effect, she will flop her head to the side as if she were lacking all tone in her musculature. There is no point or objective to this game. I'm not sure who or what she is using as her character study. We have no cats in our life. However, whenever she does come across a cat (neighbor's or friend's) she will cuddle it without mercy and so, I guess, this is how she has gone about her analysis of cat behavior. Whenever she has contact with a cat, they are being held so tightly by her that they are almost anoxic and so they seem a bit limp. I think she wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up.

The oldest boy is in cub scouts this year. When asked if he wanted to continue with scouting next year, he replied, "No, because I thought it was just going to be about adventure and fun and all we do is sit around and talk about honesty and stuff. I don't really care about honesty." Ironic, huh? We are about to embark on a radical approach to activities by not signing up or joining anything. It feels so liberating. Again, when asked if he wanted to play little league he said, "No! I've been playing sports my whole life. I need a break." My middle son, concurred, announcing, "I'm done with sports!" I think we are going to ride bikes and play in the backyard for awhile.

My mother-in-law is in town and she is my personal interior designer. Because I lack all care or effort regarding home aesthetics, I let her do to my house whatever she wants. This is the same reason I don't care if our housekeeper hangs pictures on our walls or rearranges a bit. I figure at least someone is doing it. In preparation for her arrival, Lee and I decided to paint our front room. This task is proving to be a bit more than we anticipated. Especially because Sherwin Williams sold us black primer for yellow paint and it is taking about 72 coats of paint to cover the black base coat. The other night while Lee was on call, after a glass of wine, I decided I would let the boys help me paint. It seemed like a good idea. Mostly, I am lazy and I was calculating that they could cut down on the amount of time that I would have to be working. They didn't realize my motives and thought I was just being a cool mom. The two of them had very different techniques. My younger son was very methodical in his brush strokes. It was all very vertical and horizontal, though he was a bit free with the amount of paint on the brush. The older one was much more whimsical with his brush strokes. There wasn't any pattern or predictability to how he applied the paint to the wall. He was more conservative with the brush to paint ratio. After two glasses of wine, I didn't pay too much attention to details like spillage or tracking paint. I was more concerned with the beauty of the moment (and the fact that they got one whole wall painted). Four days later my husband is holding me responsible for the mustard yellow footprints that are on our bedroom carpet, in the hall and under the tarps. I blamed my sons, but he told me as the captain, I was responsible for my crew.

I have been irresponsible with my commitment to my quiet time this past week. I have been busy scurrying around with things that don't matter and I have neglected my time with God. It is coincidental that my Thursday morning group bible study was on Mary and Martha and the difference between the two. Martha, the older sister (I presume) became irritated with her younger sister Mary because Mary wouldn't help her with the preparations for a dinner party she was hosting in honor of Jesus. When she complained to Jesus about it, He told her that she was missing the point and that her younger sister Mary knew what really mattered and He woudn't take that away from Mary. Talk about harsh! The truth hurts sometimes. I don't think He was telling Martha that He didn't appreciate or care about what she was doing, but He loved her regardless of her busy work. What He was interested in was the amount of time she spent in her relationship with Him. That is what this season of my life is all about, sitting still. It is so foreign to me to sit quietly and patiently. It is so much easier to "do". I am learning a lot from God and also about how much my family requires my presence. There is no currency exchange for time and physical presence. It takes discipline and it is as though I am exercising a muscle. Some habits die hard and it is so easy to lapse back into a task oriented life. Especially if I am not working. I can fill my time with volunteerism. It's like falling off my bicycle and I'll have to just get right back on to it. Practice.

Luke 10: 38-42

"As Jesus and the disciples continued on their way to Jerusalem, they came to a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. Her sister, Mary, sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to what he taught. But Martha was distracted by the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, “Lord, doesn’t it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me.”

But the Lord said to her, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”"