Afternoon delight

(October 4, 2008)

Ah, children. As I write this, I am watching a mess o' kids in a McDonalds playland. The dynamics are fascinating to me. It's lunchtime on a Thursday, so the kids are all toddlers and preschoolers. A microcosm of their demographic, they're all finding their places and making their ways in the pack, as it were.

There's my preschooler, talking big and tough, challenging other kids at every turn. He's almost always outrun, outjumped, and outdone at home, where he's the fourth in line. And there's the kid who just punched him in the head for pushing him out of the way and beating him to the steering wheel.

There's my toddler, following around and petting another little guy who's about his size, but probably six months younger.

There is a veritable gaggle of little girls, squealing in ways that only little girls can, and the one who'd rather play with the boys, I think, but is instead wailing piteously. You'd be inclined to worry, but there's not a tear in her eyes and she's continuing to play on the fringe, waiting to see which grownup will come to her rescue.

There are moms who are oblivious to the activity on the playset, and there are those following their little darlings to catch them before they land on their well padded backsides.

There's the nubile walker who insists on keeping up with the big kids, and the kid who's pushing four but still running around with a pacifier and blankie.

In this world of ketchup-eaters and slide-climbers, there is no notion of crises, impending legislation, or global tension. For them, there are french fries and ice cream cones, tunnels and slides, and any slight of etiquette or aggression will be forgotten before bedtime. The kids will figure out how to be and how to go forward because there are grownups to show them the way until they can do it on their own. I wish that I could feel that sense of freedom sometimes: to live in the moment, and leave the bigger picture to the bigger people. But I am one of the "big people" now, and the task of looking forward and back to understand the significance of this moment lies with me. Lord, grant me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a childlike spirit to trust you for the rest...and eat ketchup.

I got tagged...

Marva, I'm sorry you had to find out, but yes, I'm slower than molasses in January about this stuff. I had to think of quirks I was willing to air publicly, and then think of at least a couple of bloggers who'd play along. (Most of the blogs I read are of a more professional, specialized variety.)

Here's how to play.
1. Link to person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. List six unspectacular quirks you have.
4. Tag 6 bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on taggee's blog to let them know they have been tagged.

So here we go:
1. When I do dishes, I do my pots and pans first.
2. I have a "thing" for ugly socks...they're my favorites!
3. I make most of the bread we use at our house.
4. I pour the cream into my coffee cup first, then the coffee, so I don't have to dirty a spoon.
5. If I don't look like a lobster when I get out of the shower, it wasn't hot enough.
6. I get weepy with very little provocation. Hallmark commercials, movies, episodes of Full House -- you name it, it will probably make me cry if you catch me at the right moment.

JRH

The Semiotician's Lair

Still here...

does this blogger ever plan to post a new article? Where are you, Ms. Redsocks?

I have to say, I was more than a little flattered to find this comment on my last post. Anonymous, thanks! And I'm sorry it's been so long. The simple fact of the matter is that this blogger is rather thoughtful, and her goal in blogging is to share her thoughts in way that inspires thought and gives a true picture of what's rattling around in this little head. Of late, there's been precious little rattling around in here that isn't bound to the crisis of the moment. The day-to-day things of my "real" world are drawing all of my attention and energy, and none of them really seem to be blogworthy. There are the routine struggles of keeping up with the general activity of our home and family. We've had viruses come through: a respiratory one, followed immediately by a tummy one (which, by the way, is going to keep at least 2 of the little darlings home from school tomorrow). For some reason or another, Mr. Redsocks' schedule seems more difficult to work around this year, so that's keeping me jumping. In short, my life is kicking my butt! So, besides "Boo-hoo, I'm tired, I'm stressed, my brain is oatmeal," what's there to say? And who'd care, anyway?

Seriously, though, I haven't been intellectually idle. I have a couple of posts begun; I just haven't been able to bring them around to where they'd make sense outside of my head. I'm still going to the chapel every week (almost...Mr. Redsocks goes sometimes, too) and finding my mind drawn to meditate where my heart is most needful. It's beginning to come clear, but it takes a while to find the quiet and actually apply the words I need to share it all. So stay tuned...I'm still here, and delighted that you are, too!

NOT one of those days

You know those days when you feel the warmth of God's presence in the simplest things? When your smile is ready and your heart is full of gratitude? When little things don't seem to bother you because God is in His heaven and all is right with the world? Today is not one of those days.

Today is one of those days when I simply know he is there because he said so. Not because I can see him or hear him or feel him, but because he said so. I am tired -- demands of motherhood, an irritating cough left over from last week's sick day, and more chores than I want to admit undone and awaiting my attention -- these things are taking their toll on me.

Today is one of those days that I have to consciously remind myself of blessings in my world. Today is one of those days when I have to fight the urge to throw my hands up in frustration and let the chips fall where they may. Today is one of those days when I have to make a deliberate effort to speak with a bridled tongue. Today has begun far earlier than I intended. Today is full of chores to do, people to receive, and errands to run. Today will not end until the sun has long gone.

Today is a new day, new with promise and mercy. I choose today. I cast my choice on an ever-faithful God. I choose faith. My choices are few, but today, I choose Him.