Breakfast = 10 pringles and 3 cups of coffee. Also 2 bites of kids' waffles.
Really awesome waffles which I made from scratch and refridgerated the batter for a week.
Sneaking food never works.
It always adds up.
In Geneen Roth's book Women Food and God, she talks about sneaking food.
She equates it to sneaking feelings.
If I am having a hard time knowing what to write, it is probably because I am being sneaky.
I can't find myself.It is a chore - this honesty.
But it won't disintegrate if I look away.
Like any other chore, it is never finished.
Making the bed,
Unloading the dishwasher,
Apologizing to the husband for being wrong.
Picking up Beckam when he cries....
I do this constantly.
I just growled at him like a fed up Momma Bear.
He was hovering at my desk pushing buttons on the keyboard.
He looks up at me through orange strands of hair.
He needs a haircut.
He wimpers his "pick me up" sound.
I grasp his arm and lead him away.
This doesn't work either.
He just circles back like a yo-yo.
Denying him is like trying to deny my appetite.Both ridiculous endeavors which I engage in daily.
I have always read books about transcendance.
My hunger for it is insatiable.
Ironic.
But right now my life is about chores.
It is the daily grind of caring for children.
I cannot expect to be in a state of ecstacy for longer than 5 minutes.
I do get those minutes though.
In the sweaty euphoria after a run when the sky opens up all her colors for the few of us who are watching.
I get it lying with Andrew at the end of the day in our warm cocoon of down comforter and a day lived well.
I feel it when I step back from painting and all the colors are right where they ought to be.
I get it when I stop everything, pick up Beckam and hold him cheek to cheek in the rocking chair.
I can't blame him for wanting that feeling.
I want it too.
When I accept the chores, the appetite, the child, I can handle them gently.
My energy is not wasted.
Grace help me be like Cinderella today.
Help put on my apron with a song, and find light beneath the dust.
Cinderella lived happily ever after. she held on to hope and truth and was strong. Just like you.
ReplyDeleteThank you Nennie. I used to watch Cinderella by myself in New Jersey when I was a nannie. I had no idea how much harder it was going to get. Thank you for helping me. You do more for me than you know, just by being around, and stepping in when you can.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your thoughts with us. I always happy to read a blog of hours. So nice to read parts of my life through your pretty words with some wisdom and strength thrown in there.
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