August 4, 2006


Signs of No Life

Ever wonder why you're here? Not here in my kitchen, but here on the planet?

If you isolate chromosones or put out fires or catch criminals or create glorious music, you probably don't wonder. You already know that you're bringing something valuable to the table.

I, on the other hand, have some serious doubts as to my purpose some days. I am chasing a cat around the house day and night hoping she doesn't pee on anything. She's having a little problem, currently being solved, but in the meantime, she's mistaking many things for her litter box. Things like the laundry basket, the bathmat, and random spots on the floor. If the boys step in a little puddle by accident, they act like they've stepped in battery acid. So this week in Lorraineville, it's been Peepee Patrol.

I weeded the garden a few days ago. You'd never know it.
I dropped 200 bucks on groceries a few days ago. You'd never know it.
I do laundry every day. You'd never know it. ("No, my good shorts...")
Jackson has gone swimming at a friend's place this week, seen a movie, had a sleepover, had a watergun fight, ridden his bike, gone to a car show, watched Maury Povich and gone out for lunch. You'd never know it. He's bored.
I've written a couple of pieces, done an outline for the next two months work, and had a couple of meetings. The kids don't care; they want the computer.
Brad left a note that he'd taken my keys for work today because he couldn't find his. I read the note, and realized it didn't matter. I wasn't going anywhere anyway.

But are these really the things I should be whining about? I mean, according to the papers it is - we're encouraged to complain about the heat in the summer, the snow in the winter and everything in between. Hemlines, hairstyles, celebrity offspring, criminal sightings and new places to stick Botox.

It's hard to justify ragging on Marc to cut the grass when our soldiers are returning from Afghanistan in body bags. It's hard to tell my kids to run around and enjoy the summer when details emerge about the two kidnapped kids out west. As if removing their names from the public stage will ever erase those two vulnerable, beautiful faces from my memory.

I think sometimes I just am desperate to control my own little world in here because I feel so helpless at effecting change in the big world out there. But dialing down the dampers in here doesn't exempt me from still trying to find a way to leave the world better than I found it.

It's just a case of finding a way how.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Arlene said...

You are raising two amazing young men. That's how!

August 04, 2006 11:15 AM  

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