2013 Resolutions: Walk Instead of Run

First of all, Mom's surgery was successful and she's beginning to recover.  I'm so grateful she's okay and appreciative of the prayers for her.  I had a hard time fighting back the "what if's" that come along with a parent getting sick or going for a major surgery.  It was such a relief to hear from the doctor last Wednesday that the surgery went perfect.  What a way to begin 2013.

Like most people around the country, I've been reflecting on last year and looking ahead at 2013.  I made a list of goals for 2012, and while I didn't meet all of them, I shot toward most of them, and it was exciting and satisfying to look back on what I set out to accomplish throughout the year.  I am a list maker.  I love lists.  I like to add stuff to my lists so that I can check the stuff off.

One of the things I did not do in 2012 is run a marathon.  At least not physically.  On this side of 2012, I feel like I ran a marathon.  A lot happened in our family in 2012, and right now I'm feeling particularly worn out by all of the activity, good and bad.

In 2013, I think my number one resolution is to walk instead of run.  I am tired of running all of the time.  There has to be a way to slow down.  I am so good at busy, so good at "entering a busy season," that stopping or just braking for a minute seems impossible.  Of course, I am already defeating myself in this area, since next Monday I will start classes toward my master's.  hahahahaha

I'd like to make a list of things not to accomplish in 2013.  Like, don't accomplish anything.  Be content.  Take care of yourself.  Breathe once in a while.  BUT, since that's anti-'merican, here's my list of things to do in 2013:

• Maintain sanity
• Pray and give thanks daily for this life
• Remember the promises given by God in the Bible and remind my family about them regularly
• Continue preparing healthy meals for my family
• Complete the assigned coursework for my MFA, turn in work I can be proud of, and write toward a book-length manuscript of essays
• Go out with my husband once every two weeks
• Play with my kids; do something special with Elvis and Lydia alone once a quarter
• Expand the garden
• Go on vacation, anywhere
• Continue to chisel away at debt
• Blog every other week

BW and I will celebrate ten years of marriage this year.  We are aiming to be out of debt by early 2014 so that we can quickly get back into debt by going to Italy.  ;)  We're both great spenders and lousy savers.  This is an area we'll need to really hone in on if we want to make it happen.  

I left off physical exercise although I do hope to still do some of that some of the time.  Typically exercise and writing take turns in my life - if I'm exercising I'm not writing and if I'm writing I'm not exercising.  

I have a feeling that the MFA will knock me down and bully me with its reading list and writing requirements.  I tend to be prolific but on my own time, not on a schedule, so we'll see how that goes.  No time.  No time.  No time.  Where's my live-in maid?  Where's my butler? 

I should add "keep up with the house" to this list, but come on. Something's gotta give here.  Gratefully, my husband recognizes my general suckage at household chores and granted permission to hire someone to do the deep cleaning for me once a month or so.  This is a huge relief because when Saturday comes, there are few things I feel worse about than cleaning all day instead of spending time with the kids after I've spent all week working.

I should also add "keep up with the laundry" to the list.  That's one thing you just can't neglect, especially with five people living in the house.  Brandon is a huge help in this area, too, unlike some husbands, who delegate all household chores to their spouses because that's "women's work."  Brandon is a champion chore-sharer.

As much as I hate baskets of laundry sitting around the house, laundry has about eight too many steps.  First you have to collect it from the multiple hampers and carry it down to the basement. Then you have to sort it.  Then you have to wash it.  Then you have to wash it again because it sat too long in the washer after you forgot to switch loads.  Then you have to dry it.  Then you have to turn the dryer on fluff cycle because everything sat too long and got all wrinkly.  Then you have to fold it.  Then you have to sort it into appropriate stacks for each family member. Then you have to move it to the appropriate bedroom and nag the children about putting their clothes away.  Then you have to throw your arms up into the air and huff and puff about how they haven't put their clothes away or they've jammed them in and messed them all up.  Then you have to pull everything out of the drawers and refold it and put it all back in the appropriate drawers.  And then, after all of that hard work, they pull them out, wear them, and put them back into the hamper.

Know what I could handle?  Wash. Dry. Fold.  That's it.  Someone else can deal with the rest.

What are you resolving to do, or not to do, in 2013?

Getting My Martha On

Like most nights when my husband is working, a good hour needs to be dedicated to demolition clean-up after the kids go to bed. Between whatever the dog destroyed during the day (diapers, stuffed animals, Legos, etc.), the food left over on the table, chairs, countertop, and walls, toys that migrated all on their own from the basement where they are supposed to stay, and the dozens of sheets of paper that have accumulated from coloring, story-telling, backpack explosions, card making, etc., it takes at least that long to give the interior of the house the dose of loving kindness it deserves. 

Part of the reason it takes as long as it does is because there's a handful of fruitless attempts mixed in there to keep Beans from licking the silverware and dirty plates as I load the dishwasher, or to keep Beans from chewing ev-er-y-thing in the living room, except his chewy or dog toys, or to keep Beans from barking at the real squirrel or the imagined squirrel, or to keep Beans from drinking out of the toilet (kids! keep the toilet seat down and the door shut! gah!).

Sometimes I'm very cranky about this nightly process.  The house will be wrecked again in the same way tomorrow, after all.  Is it really worth the effort, when most of the house will be asleep or at work/school while the house is clean?  How did the food get on the wall anyway?  And what is the deal with this dog?  Whose idea was it to get a dog (...)?  All I really want to do is get under a blanket and write.  Okay, all I really, really want to do is get under a blanket, eat chocolate, and watch The Biggest Loser. 

But instead I'm chipping away at the dried banana and rice cereal on Henry's high chair.  That stuff could be a substitute for concrete.  Instead, I'm unloading and reloading the dishwasher. (The dishwasher that I love, trust me.  It's awesome and courageous and strong and can bench press all of my stickiest, caked-on something or other pots and pans, with one arm tied behind its back.)  Instead, I'm corralling all of those delinquent toys that escaped all on their own from the toy room and shepherding them back to their corners.  And I'm doing all of that with this joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.  Really.

But there are other times when this cleaning is a cleansing process, a sort of decompression that permits the stress and thinking of the day to be rinsed down the drain.  When I'm done and I have a glass of wine in my hand, a blanket across my lap, and a pillow behind my back, I can sigh a tired and contented sigh and know that the house will be clean for a whole ten hours before the day starts again tomorrow.  I can survey the kitchen and not see spilled something-or-other on any surface, and it is a beautiful thing.  I can turn off the light as I shut the door, closing down for the night in satisfaction.  Nothing is hidden or left undone.  Aaaah.

This exercise in creating order from chaos is what I'm thinking of as "Getting my Martha on".  Martha is the super event coordinator for Jesus and his disciples in the New Testament.  Sometimes she gets grumpy about it and asks Jesus to tell her sister to get off her rocker and start helping her.  Other times, she's the gracious servant, hosting her recently raised-from-the-dead brother and all of his friends. 

I think when Martha is at her best, her preparations and hospitality are an act of worship.  When Martha is at her worst, she's just busy and bitter about it. I need to decide which Martha I plan on being-- cranky Martha, or worshipful Martha.  Some nights it's easier than others to choose to engage in household chores as an act of worship, because the kids made it easy - they cooperated throughout the bedtime routine, they sang their sweet little prayers and asked for hugs and kisses.  Other times the night doesn't go as well, and buying into the joy of the Lord is much harder.

But I think that's part of the point.  Can I worship God even when I don't really feel like it?  Can I make these mundane tasks that are necessary every day more than just scrubbing down the counters, especially when worship is one of the farthest notions from my mind?  I'd rather not receive the rebuke of Christ in my mutterings and make every effort to turn bitterness into fruitfulness, crankiness into praise.  And, okay, sometimes I'm going to choose "the better way" and just plain shirk my household chores, opting into prayer or Bible study... or DVR'ed episodes of Hoarders.  At least someone is getting some cleaning done then.