Confession Wednesday: Mental Meandering

I took a trip up North last week. I took my youngest offspring, who so fully enjoyed having his mom to himself that he chattered the entire 7 hours up without a single snooze (this kid falls asleep on the way home from Wal-Mart!).

Here's a big fear for me (and Mrs. W, too. We had a good laugh.): that I'll die on a road trip, and the Relief Society will show up and clean my bathrooms/closets/under appliances. Or worse, that I WON'T die, and that I'll be lying in a hospital KNOWING they're cleaning everything I missed and wondering what to do with the clutter that is as yet untackled.

I had another passenger in the form of a GPS, who until this trip was named Talulah. Here's the thing: Talulah is bossy and a little unpredictable at times. If we don't pay enough attention to her, she either sulks or gets really demanding. But dang it all, she has to come along because she's the only one who knows the way.

So I renamed her Gollum.

Here's another fear: that I'll take my child to the dentist and find out that his teeth are made of Swiss cheese, even though I've been better with his brushing/flossing/fluoride than with any of his sisters.

No, wait, that actually did happen. Yesterday. Mother of the year RIGHT HERE.

Also, Mr. Swiss Teeth is currently eating these tragedies because nobody else will:



Stupid Twilight (did you hear everyone click away just then?) suckered me out of $2 for nasty tasting conversation-heart wannabe's. (I'm gonna brush his teeth right after. I promise.)

My kids are a little disgusted with me that we're not out of town this week. (They've been good sports about it . . . but when my Visiting Teacher asked yesterday if we were going anywhere for Spring Break, by 13yo said, "NO!" just a little too loudly and bitterly.) So I'm trying my normal Spring Break strategy of fun, free, local activities.

Three years ago, we organized a day of "Cousin Camp," wherein we made & flew kites, drew on all the concrete in a 50-yard radius, ate sack lunches, took a Bingo Walk (aptly named "Walk-o"), and made mobiles out of pool noodles slices.



Two years ago we toured the Fire Station, Harry & David, a Veterinarian Clinic, popped into See's Candy . . . I forget what else.



Last year for Spring Break, daughter #2 and I got a 3-day all-expenses-still-being-paid trip to the Pediatric wing of the local hospital for dehydration and suspicious (false alarm) blood work. Aside from the expenses, it was very relaxing to have nothing to do but entertain a mellow child and order room service. But not so fun for the kids.



So yesterday was library day. Today we're hoping to visit a wonderful family friend who makes exquisite porcelain dolls. I could never get enough of them as a child, and it took all my power not to touch them. If we make it, and if I'm not physically restraining my younger children, I'll take some pictures and you'll see what I mean. Tomorrow is an encore of our Harry & David tour (a huge hit last time - We love you Mrs. F!!), and Friday will be letterboxing and a tour of Wildlife Images. (We were going to tour a toffee factory, but it turns out they put fancy new equipment right in front of the viewing window and there's no more view. Hmph.)

So I've been thinking lately about this post by Mrs. S, about pretending (read the comments too!). And I've realized that somewhere along the way, I've lost the inclination to use my imagination just for fun.

In all honesty, as I've pondered this, I think I had some hidden mistaken impression that if I was imagining my life to be more fun than it is, that it would mean I wasn't happy with my life the way it is. Of course uncovering that realization reveals how ridiculous it is: I can be happy with my life (which I am) and still desire to spice up the housework with a little imagination.



It's interesting that this epiphany would come just days before this conversation with my 10yo:

J (last night as we're getting into the car): Mom! It's the evil south wind! Can you see it in the trees? It's coming to get me!

Me: The south wind, eh? Sound scary!

J (10 minutes later): You know what's sad Mom? As adults grow up, their imaginations grow out. They don't have any anymore.

Me: Wow, that is sad and a little true!

J: Like with the south wind. You just didn't get it.

Me (injured): What? What was I supposed to get?

J: It's the EVIL SOUTH WIND. It's just . . . just . . . .

Me: Just what?

J: Well, if you had an imagination, you'd get it.

Me (5 minutes later as we're getting out of the car): Hey, is THAT the south wind?

J: No, that's a good one.

Me: Like the gentle east breeze?

J: Ugh. No.

So, apparently, I'm REALLY RUSTY at all of this. My goal for this week is to do more pretending. Frankly, I don't have a plan yet, but I'm going to consult the resident imagineers around here and let you know how it goes. According to Mrs. S, it's great for housework, which I have plenty of today. We're having company for dinner tonight (go me!). I'm in charge of rolls and clam chowder, or as Yonf so cleverly put it, loaves and fishes!!

If you're a pretender, tell us all about it! I want to know what I've been missing out on!