Literatimommy

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Our Halloween Costumes

Jack and Molly's gram's birthday is tomorrow, and so we mailed her a birthday wish. But, I also happened to get the kids in their halloween costumes: Jack is Buzz Lightyear, and Molly Ann is either the mean wish, or Zurg's evil sister, depending on the day.
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Saturday, October 20, 2007

Deconstructing A Perfect Day: What Remains

I had a near-perfect day today with the kids. If you live in North Texas, you know the weather today was delicious. It was slightly cool in the morning, when I headed to Fort Worth to drop Mike off and walk in the Juvenile Diabetes Fundraising Walk for my sweet niece, Ava, who was diagnosed at four years old last year. We missed the walk, because, in typical my style, I didn't get any info and just headed off to Trinity Park, somewhere off University. But, even the tardiness and being lost didn't assail my happy attitude to be out on such a great day. While we were waiting for the walkers to finish, I took my kiddos to the park that was there, and underneath a massive Bur Oak whose diameter was larger than my arms, I swang Jack and Molly in the kiddy swings. The sky was so blue, and the sunlight zig zagged its way through the scrawny-looking Bur Oak limbs. (Bur Oaks are very round, and have small limbs in comparison). Every time Molly or Jack would swing out, they would catch a glint of the golden sun, and it illuminated their face. It was peaceful, and they were in good moods. A perfect, uneventful day that I want to burn into my memory. And, as I try, God has been urging me to look beyond the beauty of the park, the joy of my children, the security of a loving family and enough, to find him. So, I am deconstructing the day. The first thing I will take away is the Bur Oak. I am jealous of its sheer size, and wish I could transplant it in my back yard, where my three year trees grow quickly, but still are saplings by comparison. In the picture in my mind, I delete the tree. The Trinity River, quietly snaking through Fort Worth is next to go. Other mothers, who I know, are dealing with a horrible diagnosis, and their sweet darling children, I also delete, but not before I pray for them. I delete the park, the swings, the weather and the blue sky that looks like its light blue color should be a fact, something that will never go away. But, we know (as Christians) that the sky is created. God made it, but, it must go, too, to work on my deconstructed day. What do I have left? My family, whom God has richly blessed me with. The family I pray every night that God will link me to for innumerable days. The beautiful daughter whose distant future weddingI beg God to allow me to see. The son, strong and healthy, who has grown much like the bur oak, the slight changes on a day to day basis ending up pointing to a transformation that is stunning. However strange it sounds, though, children are not the only way God defines me. It is one way, but not the only way. He sees me as his created, and not only a mother, so ever so gently, I allow their beloved and sweet faces to fade away. With no sunlight, no husband, whom I adore, but he is at work anyhow, and is only by most loving association a part of this memory. It is just me, my physical self, my much hated thighs and slightly forming crows feet. I plan to delete my body, which, although it should be comforting, this shell I've lived in for 33 years often feels more like home than it should. Reluctantly, I delete my body. It is just me and my Lord now. And, this stripping down has caused me to reach for some leaves to hide my naked soul. I see, in the middle of this meditation, my Lord smiling at me. He, the great giver and lover of my soul, and me. I want you to know that although the sun and sky are gone,with just God and I, my soul is bathed in light. It is a thought that supplies great comfort. I once read in the paper a story of a man who lost his whole family in a car crash. In my mind, I wondered how he could still believe, and what his life was like. I will never (hopefully) be able to imagine what that stripping of identity by proxy would be like. However, through this memory deconstruction, I can imagine that my identity does not live in a perfect day spent with my family (a day I am thankful for), nor my sweet husband of 11 years, nor my passion for English literature, nor my job as a part time teacher, but my identity lies in my heavenly father, and his son, who saved me from the great abyss, the great nothing. When I deconstruct my day, and by subtraction take everything God has given me away, I am still God's child. No one, not a person, nor a spirit, nor death, nor life, can take away the promise I have because I am a daugther of God, and a sister of Jesus, because of Jesus. In the middle of my perfect day, it is a good thing to remember. And, slowly, my life comes back into focus, one layer at a time. I can see Jack and Molly (and breathe a sigh of relief), the beautiful park, the children, and of course, the great Bur Oak that gives us splotchy shade from the sun. Because I know who I am, I can be more thankful for the amazing gifts my God has lavished upon me.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Sneaking Past the Payer: An Innate Criminality

We have started a sticker chart system for Jack and Molly to reward good behavior. When they are obedient or kind, they are rewarded with a sticker. When they get fifteen stickers, they can earn a toy. Tonight, we cashed in stickers at Toys R Us. The catch is that each sticker chart is worth ten bucks. Well, Jack fell in love with a Buzz Light Year toy that costs 22 dollars, too much! We didn't buy it for him, and he picked out something else. However, he was so sad, which I know, translates into a bit spoiled. On the way home, he was strategizing about how to get the toy, and one of his schemes when he realized he didn't have enough money, was to grab Buzz and "Sneak past the payer" without giving him any money. Of course, we laughed, and I told him his idea would result in little boy prison time, and the police would come and get him. Finally, we persuaded him to ask what he could do to earn more stickers to get his coveted toy. Tonight, he said "Let's take a bath for one sticker!" Maybe we made it through to him, but still, I confess that I think he would "sneak past the payer" with Buzz if he had access to a reliable car to get him to Toys R Us. Molly Ann was perfectly happy to have a princess purse for a "ball with the prince", so she could dance with King Jacob, a boy from her class. We got dressed up after our trip, and she danced with Prince Daddy.