Geoff posted a "To Do" list over my desk, where I sit and pretend to be busy. He scrunched his words together, so I read "TODO" instead of "to do." Todo is everything in Spanish and so I see everything looming over me. Everything I need to do. Everything I should do. Everything I want to avoid, delay, postpone, evade, escape, delegate, and deny.
Alex says, "Feh" calmly and cooly, but with a sufficient hint of disdain, when facing tedious or annoying tasks. I say Feh, when I look at the list. I don't even have to look at it. Geoff read it to me twice. He made me sit beside him in bed when he composed it. I know it has important and necessary jobs, like "prepare taxes" and "clean car." Heck, I can even think of some good ones he left out.
I just haven't been hit by the spark of enthusiasm and motivation that higher functioning beings run on. I feel distracted and scattered. I think of things like learning to knit, writing, taking pictures, going back to the thrift shop where I found Maria's blue dress, unpacking Grandma E's tea cups, starting a new quilt, visiting Anne's new yard, driving somewhere. My mind is so busy producing and creating, that I resent the list tacked to the wall, calling me, "Do this, do that, be efficient and effective." Feh.
Geoff's right. We have no room for shirkers and lazy, crafty, daydreamers. We have no need of volunteering room moms, gone for the day to do good in some other world. We need Todo, done right here under the mighty roof of Cramalot, where we are still packed and cluttered, and unsettled. We need effort and focus.
I've already stated all my disappointments and obstacles, and it matters not one bit that I feel derailed and undone. Life must go on, and it ought to go on in a clean house, with regular and healthful meals, and the taxes done. Feh. I feel so justified and indignant when I make my list of rationales and excuses, for not being a high functioning super human, wonder mother. But the list remains tacked to the wall and demands execution of stated chores.
Someday I will have lived in one place for more than 3 or 4 years. I will know where scissors are, and double sided tape. I will not have to recreate a home, with organized closets, shelves and rooms, again. I will not have to change services, addresses and furniture arrangements, again. Someday I will feel at home, and then my to do list will be frustrating only in the usual sense, and it will not feel like I have had my life turned inside out, again.
I will say this: I am full of awe, wonder and gratitude. My children are clever and delight me. My husband is handsome, brilliant and generous. I find funny things in many and unexpected places. I find beauty too. It's a blessing that even when I am sad or overwhelmed, I can still recognize all that is good, like blue dresses in thrift shops, cowboy hats and ribbons, beautiful children and absolutely amazing jugglers.
9 things on the list... I can juggle this... I'll start with #2...
(Thanks Aunt Carol.)
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