Thursday, February 07, 2008

The Gift of Today

Oh man. Some days are just strange. Like today for instance. I had all the ingredients for a good day -- 3 healthy children, full health myself, productivety, good marriage, tons of laundry (not that tons of laundry is actually a "good" thing but it does indicate that we are a healthy, bustling family that is alive and well), a borrowed afternoon housemaid, warm house, etc. misc. etc. -- but it was just not one of those top-of-the-list good days.

It probably had something to do with yesterday. Yesterday was supposed to be the best day of the year (so far) or at least the most relaxing or the most get-in-touch-with-yourself I've had in a long time days or basically, the most kid-less day I've had since having kids 3 years ago. But I wrecked it by (get this) spoiling the opportunity to be productive by spending my energies on a dress pattern. A stupid, no good, dress pattern. I have about decided to make a vow before a great congregation to never again touch a sewing machine, piece of fabric or a dress pattern again. In my life. Ever. Again. I will file for restraining order that will forever hereafter forbid me from entering a fabric store again. In my life. Ever. Again.

I really should do that because this morbid depression has wrecked one entire day of my life. All because of a dress pattern, two precious days of my life were wrecked. FOR NO GOOD REASON.

So. That day was shot and it should've been a good day. But actually, in truth, it really was a good day. I could sit in quiet and just think. I could sew without interuption. I could contemplate my surroundings. I could listen to preaching. And I could find out that yet another dress pattern in my pattern bin does not work. So, that's good. Never make the same mistake twice on a pattern when you spend all day working on it.

Then today came. Yes, today. Today was just "one of those days." I did not look forward to today before it even started. I guess that set the tone. I should know better than to do that but really, I guess I forgot. Dumb reason, I know. My attitude wore off on the kids and that is not good. Everything was a downhill battle. Eat your food (and it wasn't). Go to bed (and they cried). Clean your room (and she bit him). Don't go outside (and the dog came in and peed on the floor.) Play with your toys (and he got busy playing with a knife). Etc. Stuff like that all day long wore me out.

Now it's evening. The kids are tucked in bed ALL THREE SLEEPING and looking the perfect pictures of innocence. I have my computer in my lap for the first time in a long time (it should feel honored that I didn't just throw it out in the snow bank) and I'm relaxing in a nice, big, soft recliner. I'm uncomfortable though and can't sit still. Toby would be going nuts if he was next to me right now..."Can't you just sit still?" He would say lovingly. And I would say, "No, I can't. I tried." And he would say, "Geeez, just hold still for 2 minutes." And I would say, "I can't; I must have that Restless Leg Syndrom." And he would say, "Just don't move your legs then." And I would say, "It's impossible; I can't get comfortable." And he would say, "You're worse than a little kid." And I would say, "I know." And he would say something I'm sure because he always says something and I would probably say something then since I always say something and we would be having this conversation not getting anywhere but feeling content that we were making important and valid points to one another.

But instead, I sit out here alone. With my unfaithful computer. Tossing and turning in this chair. Reclining and sitting up. Kicking my feet. Holding my feet still. My lap is too hot from this computer. My feet are too hot (they always get hot when I sit in this chair for some reason) My heel is cracked and throbbing. My toe itches (I hate that). My eyes are tired.

And tomorrow is another new day. Another day to be a mom. To be a wife. To run a house. To set the tone. To remember the better part.

To only remember that the better part is often in the most hidden places. The places that I overlook when a pile of dishes threatens an avalanche. The places that I can't see beyond that mountain of laundry. The places that hide underneath those mischevious eyes. The places that disappear when I lose patience. Yet I can easily find those special places when I remember the Source. And that I am a mom yes, but I am first His child.

1 comment:

Jean said...

That kind of restlessness of the legs that you described reminds me of what happens to me in bed when my blood sugar is too low. Only for me it usually means turning from side to side multiple times and not being able to go to sleep. when I finally get up and check my blood I'll find it quite low and so then I'll have something to eat and be able to settle down.

May be the real cure for your case of leg restlessness is get up and take a walk around the house.