7 Catch Up Takes

One

Another busy week with virtually no blogging to show for it. Kept trying to write something interesting and clever, but then the Internet went down, and I had nothing to say, and so I just kept folding over the cover of my device and wandering away. If blogging is the true measure of my self worth, then I am a true failure. Of course, that is also true if parenting is the measure, or keeping a clean orderly house, or loving God enough, or anything I put my half polished finger to. That’s right, I polished part of my nails on Tuesday, kept trying to polish the other part and fix the two I immediately wrecked, and finally gave up. Who do I think I am, trying to polish my finger nails? What is this? Paris, New York? One hand is pink and the other plain.

Thing is, I don’t feel really truly human when I’m not able to blog. I feel like a half person, half formed. It’s nearly there, the idea of me was good, but it didn’t amount to anything because I didn’t get to have a couple of words about it. I’m glad this isn’t actually true, whatever my feelings say. If my humanity is conditioned on anything productive, especially the number of words I accumulate to myself, then I am a goner.

Interesting the compulsion to write. After school yesterday Elphine settled down at the computer and Romulus got out his special more firmly bound note book, and the two of them struggled along writing a story each. The room was quiet except for the rolling of Elphine’s chair from side to side, and the occasional remark from Romulus that the battle was going to be really good, and that the city was called The Lion City because it had so many lions. Alouicious came crashing in after a while and I admonished him to join them. He reeled back in horror. “I can’t do that!” he said, “they’re always making up stories and stuff. I can’t do that. I can only make video games and you won’t let me do that.” He looked at me judgingly. He’s mad that I haven’t paid money for the minecraft module building class. But meanwhile, Elphine and Romulus were sitting there like it was their right to be inventing stories with words. If I wanted them to go do something else–although even thick skulled I realized that shouting at a child to “stop writing a story and go clean” would be sheer idiocy itself–they would have been aggrieved and angry even, which is how I feel when I have to stop tapping away and go make lunch or whatever. It’s my natural born right. Don’t make me do anything else! Except that there are so many other things I have to do.

Two

Felt similarly aggrieved when the Internet went down, or away, or whatever it is that it does, and I had to actually Read the bible, like open it up and leaf around for wherever I had been the day before and then look at the words and try to make sense of them. What! I mumbled to myself, struggling along in the dark, this is unacceptable! Seriously considered not reading it. Surely God wouldn’t expect me to read, so early in the morning…what is it, like seven o’clock? Groped around and found a bible and managed to pry my eyes open. Felt that I was both thwarting satan but also deserving of some kind of great reward. Made the mistake of reading the news later, about how people stay behind in war zones to spread the gospel, and how people in Iraq are becoming Christian after all, and how they don’t count their lives anything but the surpassing mercy of Christ everything. Felt really horrible.

Three

Marigold just climbed in my bed and shouted heavily into my ear, “when can we ever go out in the frog?” And then, “did Jesus make everything he could make with his powers? And then he got tired and then woke up and made more. Does Ashy have two names? What is his third name?”

She means fog, but if anyone corrects her I’ll punch ’em one.

Four

One very good thing happened this week. On Wednesday we all had enough and stopped everything and took the day to Throw Stuff Away. Took probably seven bags of stuff out of the kids’ rooms, both toys and actual garbage. Let me just pause there and inquire of the gods why it is that my two young sons feel compelled to keep, to save, to cherish, to accumulate garbage in all the cupboards and corners of their room? Why? Why all the little scraps of paper? Why the broken bits of knights and cars and transformers? Why the gross remnants of apple which they’re not supposed to have up there anyway? Lectured and lectured as I sorted through the chaos. “Look,” I kept saying, “try putting the same kinds of toys together in the same bin. Keep all the Legos together, all the cars together….” As I named each kind of toy my voice got louder and louder. The boys both lay back on the floor and looked helpless, like I was speaking Farsi and they couldn’t understand what I was saying.

Still, got through their rooms, ordered bunk beds for the little girls, cleaned the school room again, took breaks to sit on thefloor of the office and watch Matt rearranging and throwing stuff away in there. Two runs to Salvation Army. So much happiness.

Five

Today is not only Halloween but also Reformation Day. Unable to go to sleep last night because of Matt playing loud clips of the Martin Luther movie right next to my ear as I was trying to clear my head of stress and anxiety. The problem with that movie is that Martin Luther is far too good looking. Not historically accurate at all, I don’t think. Suppose no one would watch the movie if he was as ugly as they say. Really wish we could celebrate the Swiss reformation with fondu tonight, instead of having to freeze ourselves shoving crying little children from house to house. Not my favorite evening of the year, though never as bad as I expect it will be. Really dread being cold ahead of time but then always manage to somehow cope when it comes to the actual point.

Six

Told the kids we had to do a whole day of school or we wouldn’t go trick or treating. Panicked them into hysterical action. Elphine has been since six doing school work. Alouicious is taking a shower. From what I gather, Gladys is hunched over the heater trying to do copy work. I don’t know, I’m not down there. I’m up here contemplating the layer of frost covering over the roofs of the houses and wishing I had had time to get at the garden before this moment. And wishing that I lived in Martinique or somewhere. And wishing that Elphine wouldn’t throw my socks away or whatever it is that she’s been doing with them. And wishing I had managed to aquire hipster glasses or a mask or something. Going to be stuck wearing the wolf hat again.

Seven

Spent large amounts of the week assembling all the bits of costumes needed for this evening. Such a monumental task. The armor, the accessories, the question of shoes. I’ll just stop talking and put pictures of them here. Go read Jen!