I finally entered into the age of technology. It’s interesting, I’ve been using a computer pretty regularly since my sister told me, in my fifth year of college, that I needed to “take a class”. Seems instructing her 25 year old, university-degreed sister on how to print a document was all the reason she needed to offer that sound advice. So I did.
I picked up on the whole Internet thing pretty easily, and as any administrator knows, communication at the click of a mouse via email is a lot more efficient than the old fashioned “Memo”. I even figured out how to create a “blog”, although I still don’t really know what that word means.
This past week, I delved one step further into the digital era and created a profile on Facebook. I’ve lost touch with so many friends from the past, I thought this might be a good way to reconnect, and as it turns out, with time, it is. But it’s also just another thing a busy mom can put on that to-do list of things she may never actually have time to do.
I got up early Sunday morning to put on a brisket, and I thought I’d give this new “toy” a whirl.
It seems there is a whole new language to learn when one attempts to navigate through this type of airspace, and I didn’t have time for a tutorial session to re-learn what words such as “flair”, “boxes” and “poke” really mean to the avid net head, so I went straight to the profile section. Surely I could answer a few simple questions about myself? However, this too, turned out to be more difficult than I could have imagined.
Answering questions about my age, my whereabouts and the people in my family was not so difficult. It’s when I got to the more personal questions that I began to struggle.
Q1: What are your activities? Hmm. Activities. Do people really want to know this? Who could possibly be interested? Maybe I’ll skip it and come back.
Q2: What are your interests? Hmm. What are my interests. What are my interests? Oh, no…I don’t have any interests. I’ve lost my interests! Quick! Next question!
Q3: Favorite music: What are they kidding? Like I’m supposed to put “Humpty Dumpty” down on this thing. Grownups are gonna read it. Grownups who knew me professionally and in college. Grownups who used to find me interesting, enjoy my company! Next.
Q4: Favorite TV shows: Well now, this is just getting ridiculous.
I decided I’d have to bite the bullet if I was really going to do this Facebook thing. I’d just have to tell the truth. So I did.
Q1: What are your activities?
A: ...pretty much whatever my two and four year olds are into at the moment. I teach Wednesday night Bible class, work at the paper and take my grandmother to the beauty shop on Fridays. I cook three meals a day, do dozens of loads of laundry a week and build miles and miles of train track. I drive fast racecars around a square card table and crash monster trucks off the back of the couch. And when I get up at 6 a.m. to try and do something I’m actually personally interested in, I get one little helper, teary-eyed, hair tousled, down the stairs at 6:35 saying, “I thought you were gonna come to bed and sleep with me.”
And that's not all. Just as I got him settled into the couch and sat back in my seat, re-gearing my mind for the task at hand, I heard birds chirping the tune “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” from a music box running on a dead battery, and a high-pitched pleading from the baby, “Maaameee”. It was now 6:43.
I let him lay for barely a second before his big brother suggested I go get him out of his bed. I thought (possibly out loud) maybe Daddy will get him, and I attempted to finish my “activity” at hand.
7:04-“Maaamee. I need a dwink.” And again with the suggestions. “Mom, can you go get him a drink?” What I need here is a little more guidance.
I decided to go on with my mission, but it seemed my mind had been erased and with it all logical thought, coherent sentence structure and any faint idea of where I was planning on taking this piece. It was all gone with the mere sound of one, drawn-out little word, “Maaamee”.
7:11-Get a refill of coffee. That’ll get the mind back in gear.
Q2: What are your Interests? Well, now that’s a different question. Being interested in something and being active in it-I can see how the two are miles apart. So I thought for a moment, but just a moment because half a moment is really all I had, and as I felt the electricity of an idea forming in my mind, just seconds from shooting down to my fingertips and onto my keyboard, there must have been a power surge in the area, because all my hands heard was a quiet and muffled, “Maamee, I want you.” So what is a mom to do…I sat there for a moment more.
My mind drifted from the assignment in front of me to why it is that the boy’s daddy is 10 feet away and doesn’t hear him talking but I’m on an entirely different floor and I can hear him perfectly. Oh, it must be because sound…travels …down???
This completely worthless thought led to a quick look at the clock-7:22, then a mental count down of all the things I must do before Bible class at 9:30. Is it possible?
Unfortunately, I’m afraid all those folks I’m dying to reconnect with may just have to remember me as I was in the past. On second thought, I think I’ll try again. Life is sure a lot more interesting right now!
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
These are a few of my favorite things…
-The way you yell for me every morning to come to your bed because you want to “snuggle with Big Mommy”.
-The way you make racecars and trains and monster trucks run on the never-ending motors in your mouths.
-The way you say “may I please” even though I have no idea who taught you that phrase.
-When you pull on my fingers to help me get up.
-How you are always willing to “be a good worker” no matter what the task at hand.
-The way you hug and kiss your brother good night.
-Watching you lick the beaters after helping in the kitchen.
-Watching you hold your song book upside down and hearing you sing “Jesus Loves Me” in the middle of worship while the congregation sings any other song but that.
-How you announce it to the world every time you pass gas.
-How you say every night at bedtime, “Will you go away and come back?”
-The way you remind your little brother of the rules of the house.
-The funny faces you make when you are playing and acting silly.
-How much you love and look up to your daddy.
-The way you say, “See how big I am now!” after every single meal.
-The one time in a million when you let me rock you to sleep.
-The way that you love your old dog, Bessie.
-The way you always want to pick out our lesson for Bible class.
-How seeing and playing with Mom and Dad are still the most important parts of your day.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
-The way you make racecars and trains and monster trucks run on the never-ending motors in your mouths.
-The way you say “may I please” even though I have no idea who taught you that phrase.
-When you pull on my fingers to help me get up.
-How you are always willing to “be a good worker” no matter what the task at hand.
-The way you hug and kiss your brother good night.
-Watching you lick the beaters after helping in the kitchen.
-Watching you hold your song book upside down and hearing you sing “Jesus Loves Me” in the middle of worship while the congregation sings any other song but that.
-How you announce it to the world every time you pass gas.
-How you say every night at bedtime, “Will you go away and come back?”
-The way you remind your little brother of the rules of the house.
-The funny faces you make when you are playing and acting silly.
-How much you love and look up to your daddy.
-The way you say, “See how big I am now!” after every single meal.
-The one time in a million when you let me rock you to sleep.
-The way that you love your old dog, Bessie.
-The way you always want to pick out our lesson for Bible class.
-How seeing and playing with Mom and Dad are still the most important parts of your day.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The month after Christmas
There’s nothing harder after two weeks of Christmas fun than getting back to work. With the holidays behind us, the jet lag that comes from all those long days and late nights is starting to set in. We’ve overindulged, and under heavy assault, have given in to all the requests for cookies and candy canes and ice cream before bed. And now we’re under attack.
In our first moments “alone”, the boys and I went through challenges I thought we’d already conquered. “I want candy for breakfast.” “Get me some milk.” “Hey Mom, he’s touching me!” And on and on and on. From fighting me at naptime to laughing at my discipline, by nightfall, I was ready to start thumbing through the classifieds.
But in a moment of grace, after the 17th hug and the 14th “I love you, Mommy”, before bedtime, I decided to take my sorrows to song. And this is what happened.
“Twas the Month after Christmas”
Twas the month after Christmas
And all through the house
My children are screaming,
And where is my spouse!
The stockings are gone,
The turkey’s been eaten
But nothing will calm them,
Not even a beatin’.
Their manners forgotten
And without a care
They demand and they order
And pull at my hair.
“Play with me, Mommy!”
The oldest one shouts.
“I want some more candy!”
The youngest does pout.
Too cold to go out,
Too wired to stay in,
Too bad these two boys
Are too old for a pen.
At naptime they cry
And they wallow and wail.
They jump on the bed
And they laugh and they flail.
I try to hold steady.
Be nice. Talk calm.
But they will not cooperate
So I drop the big bomb.
“When your father gets home
You’re gonna be sorry!”
But they looked at me cockeyed and
Went on with their party.
So I went to my dresser
And picked up my belt.
I snapped it and shook it…
And started to melt.
The oldest one watched as I
Started to wane.
His behavior continued;
It drove me insane!
But he made the mistake of
Taking for granted
That Mom is a softie and
That’s when I planted
One barely a whisper-
A tickle of a lick-
Across his fair backside
With my own whipping stick.
He cried and he whimpered
And his sweet little brother
Lay still as a dead man
Under those covers.
When they finally closed
Those tired little eyes
I vowed to avoid
Another reprise.
So I prayed and I promised
And swore to myself
That I’d develop more patience.
Start asking for help.
And I heard them both whisper
As I moved out of their sight,
“That was better than a spanking
From Daddy tonight!”
And that’s All in a day’s work!
In our first moments “alone”, the boys and I went through challenges I thought we’d already conquered. “I want candy for breakfast.” “Get me some milk.” “Hey Mom, he’s touching me!” And on and on and on. From fighting me at naptime to laughing at my discipline, by nightfall, I was ready to start thumbing through the classifieds.
But in a moment of grace, after the 17th hug and the 14th “I love you, Mommy”, before bedtime, I decided to take my sorrows to song. And this is what happened.
“Twas the Month after Christmas”
Twas the month after Christmas
And all through the house
My children are screaming,
And where is my spouse!
The stockings are gone,
The turkey’s been eaten
But nothing will calm them,
Not even a beatin’.
Their manners forgotten
And without a care
They demand and they order
And pull at my hair.
“Play with me, Mommy!”
The oldest one shouts.
“I want some more candy!”
The youngest does pout.
Too cold to go out,
Too wired to stay in,
Too bad these two boys
Are too old for a pen.
At naptime they cry
And they wallow and wail.
They jump on the bed
And they laugh and they flail.
I try to hold steady.
Be nice. Talk calm.
But they will not cooperate
So I drop the big bomb.
“When your father gets home
You’re gonna be sorry!”
But they looked at me cockeyed and
Went on with their party.
So I went to my dresser
And picked up my belt.
I snapped it and shook it…
And started to melt.
The oldest one watched as I
Started to wane.
His behavior continued;
It drove me insane!
But he made the mistake of
Taking for granted
That Mom is a softie and
That’s when I planted
One barely a whisper-
A tickle of a lick-
Across his fair backside
With my own whipping stick.
He cried and he whimpered
And his sweet little brother
Lay still as a dead man
Under those covers.
When they finally closed
Those tired little eyes
I vowed to avoid
Another reprise.
So I prayed and I promised
And swore to myself
That I’d develop more patience.
Start asking for help.
And I heard them both whisper
As I moved out of their sight,
“That was better than a spanking
From Daddy tonight!”
And that’s All in a day’s work!
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