Repeat after me:
That’s on a good day, like today.
I supposed I have been ‘gifted’ with this urgent feeling that I must accomplish everything on my phantom written-in-stone list. I just, for once, want to FINISH my work. I long for this… I grasp in the air for it… I lay awake pining for it…
Am I crazy????? Or did a child just dump (by accident) that newly folded towering stack of clean laundry on the floor? Did another child just track in mud onto the (ridiculously white and not the color we would have chosen) tile in the kitchen that had JUST been mopped and bleached? Why are there never ending scraps of paper from my artist child who’s been reminded over and over again to PLEASE sweep up all the scraps and PLEASE don’t leave out the (permanent, non-permanent, washable, non-washable) coloring utensils where the littles can get them and draw on the wooden staircase? And I’m not going to bring up the legos.
AAAGGHHH!! (And this is all with having rules ‘established’ about where everything goes, etc etc…)
But I seem to be the only one frustrated around here. My children’s toothy grins seem to meet my eyes every time I discover the mess. And I sigh and keep going, often times redoing something I’ve done over and over again…
I get the feeling I am ‘reaping thistles.’ You know, like that whole Genesis curse thing: “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field.” I work and work… but many times it comes up as thistles, or even worse, a ground tiller that completely undoes it all…
And I get the other curse, too… the one for Eve. (But I digress…)
Is this fair?
And so, I suppose I always try to ‘defeat’ the curse, to try to make heaven on earth where everything is done and I can relax and do nothing. But something occurred to me today…
My work isn’t done because I am still alive.
You know the famous prayer “Rest in peace”? RIP?
REST. In peace. Only then, when I’m no longer on this earth, will I truly be able to rest. And to be honest, that puts the yogurt spill on the floor in perspective.
I’m happy to be alive… and I’m happy my thistle planting children are full of life and joy… I’ll take them any day over a thistle-less garden.
So I guess I better get back to work!
(Thistle pie, anyone?)