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Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Confession Wednesday: Mental Meandering

Mr. B and I took a hey-we-have-to-go-anyway-and-it's-our-anniversary-so-HEY-two-birds-one-stone trip up North last week. It was just us and our youngest offspring, who so fully enjoyed having his parents 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.

We 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. Also, Mr. B has this odd affection for her, and will often take her word over mine. 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!

6 comments:

Savannah said...

I tend to give inanimate objects thoughts, feelings, personalities etc.
Like if I'm walking into the grocery store and all of the carts are neatly put away, all going the same direction and there's one off to the side in a different position, I find myself wondering if that cart is sad. Then I make up a whole story about him in my head....
Yeah, I'm crazy. I'll admit it.

My husband found this trait to be hilarious and very make-fun-of-able at first, and now he does it too. I just can't seem to help it.

snowwhiteor said...

I quite enjoy being a little kid! I love to sing, dance and run around playing tag or Mother May I and pretending to be a Chipmunk or a chicken pecking the ground.

Goodness, I sure missed Mommy and me today! That's my one outlet, where people don't think I', too looney!

Hey, do your kids want to come over Thursday or Friday for a movie? I'll get the treats and popcorn ready. We have periodic movie nights with the Schmidts, I quite enjoy them!

Mandi said...

I just want you to know that my sister and I have a pact: if ever something was to happen to either of us, the other is to go their home, straight to their underwear drawer, and burn all its contents. Don't sort. Don't stare. Just burn.

Laura said...

Sometimes I imagine what Ben and I would be doing if we lived the "perfect" life. And then we go and do it.

It's kinda fun to realize it's not that hard to have all these perfect days if you just put your mind to it. (Also, I have no kids.)

Also, I can use my imagination to make a toy out of ANY medical device. Try me.

Tana said...

UHM I am not sure where to begin. So I just have one question. Where are you going "letterboxing"? I have always wanted to do that!

Jerilyn said...

I like to tell my kids elaborate stories that aren't true. For example, my kids believed for a very long time that Zach lost his finger when he went for a swim in the ocean and a shark bit it off. I believe that came about because I didn't want my kids to wade out very far.

Also, when we go to dinner in public, sometimes we loudly make up relatives that have tragic stories. My kid's favorite to date was their "younger brother" named Chicken, who had to be sold to pirates in order for us to be rescued from a deserted island.

Mother of the year, right here.