Somethings

Thursday, May 27, 2010

I've been busy lately, which isn't anything new, so I don't know why I bothered with "lately." And I like being busy, so that isn't a complaint. I like settling into bed at night with my to-do list all checked off and a few extra to-dos filled in as well. And then I like to form my to-do list for tomorrow because that list reminds me that I'm going to accomplish something again. And again. Sure, "a woman's work is never done." But I don't want it to be. Who really wants to feel like their work is done? Do you?

It's not the list that's been keeping me busy though--or at least not the physical one. It's the mental list. It's all the stuff I'm thinking about, the plots I'm untwisting, the holes I'm filling in, the plans I'm making, the worries I'm worrying about, the relationships I'm sad about or wondering about.

And that's the kind of busy that overwhelms me and steals my sleep and makes me grumpy and impatient and insecure.

So when something drags me out of that busyness, I'm immensely grateful. And most of the time, that something is due to my kids. I had three of those somethings this month that really stand out for me.

1. For my birthday a couple of weeks ago, my 11-year-old son gave me an owl painting he'd done himself, because he knows I love owls. He had worked on it on and off for a month or so (mostly off) and was upset with the finished product. I didn't care, of course. I was just glad he had given me something handmade. It's hanging on my wall as I type this.

And as sweet as his gift was, what was sweeter was a note I found that Emma had written him the night he finished the painting. It says, "Dear Owen, That picture is way better then myn. The picture is great. Mom won't care how it looks. All she cares about is that she loves you and cares for you. Nobady is perfect. From Emma" It's the "All she cares about is that she loves you" part that gets to me. I'm glad she knows that.

2. (And I hate enumerating these, but it is a list, after all.) For Mother's Day, my five-year-old made me a gift at school. I honestly can't remember what it was (please remember I just had a birthday, so I'm getting older and not being able to remember as much as I used to is excusable), but my favorite part of the gift was the card. In it, Ivan said, "My mommy is happy all of the time." That's not true. I just admitted that a few paragraphs ago. But if his perception is that I am happy all of the time, I couldn't be . . . happier.

3. Today was a horrible day with said five-year-old. That's not my "something," of course. It's simply what led up to me really needing the something that followed. After we read at bedtime, we sing a song. Tonight, Ivan wanted to sing. A solo. Many, many times. And the song was "Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah." It's one of my favorite kids' songs. I can't remember a time when I didn't know the lyrics. And now he knows them. And we lay there on the floor together while he sang and sang and sang it. It was the perfect ending to the day and the perfect reminder that some times it's okay to put my lists aside.