So the ants are gone. I wanted to let you guys know that right at the start so you could stop worrying. I did have to kill a big spider today that had chosen to hang out on the ceiling right above my bed, but I am pretty sure that he is unrelated to the ants.
This week kind of felt like a week of trials. There were the ants. Then there was some extremely hot and humid weather, which was then followed oddly enough, by a couple of F3 tornadoes about 60 miles west of here. Yup. Tornadoes. In Massachusetts.
You know, here in Massachusetts we have nine months of soul crushing winter followed by three months of heat and humidity. I have always felt like the humidity and cold were the trade off against natural disasters like tornadoes and earthquakes. What is the point of stoically enduring all of that misery if we are going to have tornadoes?
I suspect that this logic comes from my years of being educated by nuns for whom punishment and discomfort were just another way to show Jesus your love.
"Stop complaining and offer your suffering to Jesus!" the nuns would intone. Sure. What Jesus would do with my suffering is beyond me.
Where was I? Oh yes, the trials of the week. The ants, the heat, the tornadoes, the spider on my ceiling- it all got to me. That's why this morning I offered the girls a choice: do schoolwork or go to the mall.
It was tough for them to decide, but somehow they choose the mall. I had an ulterior motive for going to the mall. I wanted a haircut badly and I wanted to Lily to get one too. My hair has been suffering from self inflicted hair cuts about a year. Lily's crazy short haircut has been growing out into an extreme shag that has gone from looking "cute and spunky" to "Does that mother ever brush her kid's hair?".
We arrived at the mall and snagged appointments with Toni our hairdo guru. You know what I like about Toni? She does not berate me for cutting my own hair. She just smiles nicely and makes me look like a grown-up again. She made me look pretty and made Lily look like a regular child and not a street urchin.
We are about to start week four of the David's eight week film shoot. In general it's going well. I have to say this, I just do, but I could not do this unless my kids weren't so awesome. They are not perfect. They whine and argue, but mostly they are great friends with each other. They laugh and play in all of the ways that make childhood wonderful.
Being with them is the greatest gift of my life. I think it's also why I feel so guilty that I have moments of desperately wanting to be alone. When David is home I usually disappear for a few hours on the weekend and recharge. With David gone and all of the kid's classes over, I don't have any regular chunks of time to myself. While I know that I can leave my kids home alone together, I feel guilty and rushed when I do. I worry that if I am gone too long they will feel my leaving as a statement about them.
I ask them sometimes, "Don't you guys ever get tired of me?"
"No mommy! Never! Do you get tired of us?" they ask.
I tell them the truth. Sometimes I need quiet when no one is talking to me or needing anything from me. They'll understand some day.
In the meantime, I count my blessings, endure my trials and offer nothing up to Jesus.
2 comments:
Heyseuss has you on his radar. I blame you for the oh so very long winter and near-misses with tornadoes. Repent and we shall all be saved.
Heathen.
Dear Sara, Thank you for your suffering, I really love it! You know my taste in suffering so well--I have been wanting to get some insect/weather/solitude-craving suffering to go in the upstairs bathroom for ages! I know exactly where I'm going to put it. You are the best. Love, Your Buddy, Jesus.
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