Lingering winters play unkind tricks on my mind. They remind me of how difficult life has become in these latter days, and how strong and faithful we must be to weather the storms that relentlessly blow from every direction. Unfortunately, they also remind me that the frivolity and innocence of my youth are but a distant memory. Endless work and claims on my attention are nipping at my ankles and punching me in my gut wrinkles. Although I have no desire to return and relive my younger years, I do wish there was a way to keep the sun shining upon me no matter which storm is brewing in the background. The security of childhood is a beautiful thing; I only wish I could figure out how to handcuff it to me so it must accompany me through adulthood.
I often find myself getting caught in the current of daily living; I constantly feel like my life is a race against the clock. Routines and schedules dictate the confines of every day, so much so that I notice the difference between one hour, one minute, and at times, the difference between one second to the next. OCD attitudes aside, I never feel like I have enough time.
"Time for what?" you may ask. This is a good question. Time for household chores, time for commuting, time for work and domestic projects, time for teaching, time for strengthening relationships with family, neighbors, and spouse...time for errands, time for endless demands from 84 year olds, time to breathe, time to think, time to make liberals cry...
I am constantly listening to local and general church leaders advise us on awareness of our attitudes through trying circumstance; we are to not only endure the storms of life, but we are to enjoy the journey amidst the storms. Sure, I'll get right to that...um, just as soon as you teach me how...I hate to admit it, but I struggle with knowing how to enjoy activities. On the outside, it appears to be a simple request but I am the kind of girl who has to pencil in enjoyment activity and figure out how to do that between juggling the stresses of professional employment, second-shift home life, and trying not to kill a senile old lady. In light of it all, I really want to have a mental breakdown and re-ignite a love affair with an old flame. It requires much physical, emotional, and mental strength to not cross that forbidden line and purchase a Diet Coke. Let's face it, I might be too high-strung to enjoy anything without the aid of chemical stimulants and medication. Or am I?
I have been making a conscious effort to rid my life of unneccesary "extras". I continually ask and evaluate which objects, events, and activities are drawing from my personal growth and distracting me from my mission. When I look at the BYU Alumni magazine and read about all the wonderful things fellow alumni are accomplishing, I reflect upon the things I am accomplishing and an unfriendly whisper echoes back, nothing much. I have to remind myself that while BYU is promoting and celebrating the temporal successes of its former students, it is also reinforcing the negative media stigma attached to everyday, ordinary mothers who are trying their best to balance the pressures of their multiple and demanding roles and who are refraining from measuring their successes by worldly standards. Coincidentally, I have to consciously avoid the pitfall of "zero sum competition", or seeing another's temporal success as my personal loss. I will not sugar coat my weakness; it's true I feel as if I am drowning in key areas of home and hearth, and I am not known in the community or even in the state for business, educational, or political achievements, let alone scientific discoveries. However, I am teaching a young boy the restored principles of the gospel and to walk uprightly before his fellow man. In the end, I will not be remembered for my scholarly summations or delightful wit and whims, but for how well I taught a man to serve his neighbor and build up the kingdom of God.
Having noted that, I feel it a great sacrifice to deviate from my usual routines. As I mentioned earlier, I am in a ragged race against the clock and the second hand seems to hold the upper hand every time. Nonetheless, I believe part of balancing home and work life is taking moments to celebrate the successes and achievements of others, and I truly want my son to foster enduring relationships of love and respect with extended family members.
This past weekend, Thaus and I had the opportunity to take Xavier to Logan for an Amonett family mini-reunion at Thaus' younger sister's home. Family members gathered from as far as San Francisco to celebrate the 8th birthday of our niece, Ketrah, and her baptism into the LDS church. The weekend was packed full of kid-friendly activities, and it was nice to enjoy a moment with my husband and son minus our usual entourage. It is very freeing to not have an obnoxious 11 year old and sassy 84 year old gnawing at your heels.
Our first big event was a trip back in time as we saddled on our oversized 3D glasses for instruction on How to Train Your Dragon. Fire-breathing reptiles aside, it was a very cute and entertaining presentation if you consider overgrown, beastly, hairy mammoth, tooth-rotting Vikings to be cute. Xavier loved the show and his snacks, and even wore his 3D glasses for intermittent periods of time. From the onset of the opening scene I was immediately concerned about motion sickness, but once my eyes acclimated to the special effects, I quite enjoyed the story...and the life lessons contained within.
Unfortunately, it has been my experience that a moment of peace and tranquility must always be followed by upheaval. Upheaval came in the form of a strange stomach virus which crowned Xavier "Prince of the Pukies" Friday night and Saturday night. Aside from a slight fever Sunday morning, I couldn't figure out what was making him so ill. I have to say, though, that cleaning up puke in a hotel room is even less fun than cleaning it up at home.
After church services Sunday morning, we left Logan that afternoon and headed south towards home. We stopped in Sandy for refueling and to let Xavier ride the train at Southtowne Mall. He was in one of his feisty moods, and wanted to ride in the conductor's car. We convinced him the next car back was just as good, and thankfully he got in without too much fuss. Thaus accompanied him on his eight-minute long journey. This was more than enough time to remind me of my guilt for setting foot in a mall on Sunday. Plus, there were a lot of scary people shopping for their wares on this hallowed day. Seeing all that skin makes me not want to enter a mall ever again. Not only is it good to be at church on Sunday it is much safer; you don't have to worry about viewing people's jiggly parts flapping in the winter wind.
Looking back upon this weekend, I am glad to have spent the time nurturing my relationship with family. Even though I have anxiety about all the duties I leave behind, nothing is more important than spending time with my little bug, even if he is a pukey little bug.
3 comments:
LMC would be JELLO of X riding in the train. Looks fun. You need a dose of Indiana. The weather is gorgeous right now. 70 and sunny. Wish it was like this all year, but NOOO. :)
I'm glad you guys found the train! Gabe rode in that same car. And you should be glad you don't have a high-profile job, because you know it would take you away from home all too often.
I think all of us working mothers feel the same way. I'm gradually learning "not to sweat the small stuff". I would much rather Hazen and Rett be happy and feel loved than to have perfectly matched clothes and a spotless house. I used to spend all my free time "doing stuff that needed to be done" instead of enjoying my kids. In 3 years, Rett will be 18 and venturing out on his own, so if he asks to play baseball, I'll gladly forego washing the dinner dishes to spend time with him before it's too late. Love you, girl!
Post a Comment