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Sunday, January 3, 2010

Unpacking

I've had difficulty downloading photographs today, which is bothering me well beyond what is a proportionate response. I sit here, staring at the little circle as it goes around and around, waiting.

This is time I could sit down with my Diet Pepsi and read the Post. I could pray or meditate.  I could watch something mindless on TV or write thank-you notes. I could cook up the sausage for tonight's lentil soup. I could nap.

Instead, I sit here, watching a circle go around and round, gritting my teeth.

I get up. If it's this hard to download photographs, I daresay God  is telling me to step away from the computer and do something else.

I decide to mop the floors. Sometimes being productive makes me feel better. Call me Pavlov's dog.  Another biscuit, please.

After mopping the floors, I feel less like Martha Stewart and more like Betty Friedan. It's just drudgery, and it'll have Goldfish crackers and blue play dough on it by six this evening.

Yet, for this moment, as I sit here in my warm kitchen, listening to the wind howl and the soft breath of Joel sleeping on the monitor, my floor is clean. I have this moment to unpack my feelings like little Russian nesting dolls, and figure out what is going on in this spiderweb of a mind.

So let's unpack it, already:
I feel like I should be doing something significant in my life.
I'm worried about Joel's surgery this Friday.
I'm sad that my friends are moving away. 
I'm also sad that we're giving away the high chair and that we already gave away the rocking chairs.
I'm sad that I will never have a daughter.

Mostly, though, I am disappointed that I am unable to download my photographs, thus denying you the opportunity to read "Houseplants I have Loved." Because that, dear friends, was where this post began its circuitous route.

Ah, well. My floors look fantastic. There's that.

15 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

Clean floors, no matter how transient, are a thing of wonder.
I cleaned my refrigerator yesterday and feel as if I need a pair of sunglasses, every time I look into it. And yet, within a few days there will be pickle juice, congealing on the bottom below the drawers. We know this to be true.
Enjoy the cleanliness while it lasts. And P.S. I don't think God cares about your time at the computer. But that's just my personal opinion.

Nancy C said...

Perhaps not, but any universe/God that makes the inside of a conch shell notices the details.

Stephanie said...

Revel in those clean floors for as long as it lasts. Gotta enjoy the little things.

I really like your new blog template!

erika said...

You ARE doing something significant in your life. Actually, I can think of a couple somethings, and I only know you through the Internets :)

Maybe you won't have a daughter, but, since you will be the most awesome mother-in-law ever, you can have daughter-in-laws whom you will love like your own. Not to mention those grand-daughters that you will be able to spoil without living with the consequences :)

I will remember to pray for you and little Joel on Friday.

Maggie May said...

i would take the clean floors!! sigh. mine are ...ahem..not clean

Bethany said...

Well good for you for cleaning the floors. For some reason the mention of goldfish crackers and blue playdo made me happy. But I suppose not if I was cleaning up the mess everyday.
I'm looking forward to your houseplant post.
I like how you said that, unpacking your feelings like the Russian nesting dolls.
Hope it helped.
Good luck on Friday.
It's okay to be sad.
Maybe someone will give you a hug.
Here's a virtual one.
(((((((((((((((you))))))))))))))))

noisycolorfullively said...

I will be making sure that our family is covering yours in prayer Friday. I will also be praying for peace and patience this week.

I love the paragraph before you unpack, simply beautiful.

Longing for significance sometimes means there's something brewing, wait for it.
Joel. Prayer. check.
When friends leave, the relationship is never the same and that sucks.
I don't know who you're giving your highchair to, but I look around my house and see it filled to the brim with hand-me-downs and am awed at the precious memories each piece holds. When I put one of my cherished babies in the highchair, or rock them, or swaddle them, or read to them, I am encouraged to love them better because all those gifts mean I am loved.
Not having doesn't mean you can't love. Find a girl and pour your mother love there. Sometimes I get sad thinking about all the kids I'll never have. Then I think about all of the ones I get to love because I have all this extra and can share. I get you though, sometimes it gets me down too.

And you're floors look fantastic. I'm jealous.

Unknown Mami said...

You are significant, therefore you are doing something significant with your life.

adrienzgirl said...

Ok, first, I love the new look. It's really really nice. The photo at the top? PRECIOUS!

Everyone needs to unpack those feelings every now and then!

Caution Flag said...

I'm sad about your friend moving and now I'm worried about the surgery. Your frustration about the stubborn upload is duly noted, and I'm crying again about saying good-bye to baby days. And that makes me sad that I had babies so late in life that all my high school friends are now grandparents and I have a 2nd grader.

And you know what else? My floor is a pigsty.

Wow. I was happy two minutes ago!

4 Lettre Words said...

Praying the surgery goes even better than expected. XOXO!

....Petty Witter said...

Hello Nancy, having also received an award from Traci over the holidays I'm only now getting around to visiting everyone else, something I try to do as a way of meeting other bloggers.

I know just how frustrated you must be feeling in things not going according to plan with the downloading of your photos - this seems to be the story of my life as far as all things technical go.

Anyway, nice to meet you. My best wishes to you and yours for 2010.

Alicia (aka Dr. Mom) said...

Such a great post! I love the way you write...

Cat said...

I love that you listed your concerns without equivocating or explaining them off. Sometimes things are just THERE, and it's OK to be sad.

I'm sure there are many people who think your life is significant, and I am among them.

Corrie Howe said...

I loved the comments just as much as your post today. I'm not sure that I can add anything else. I'll be praying for Joel on Friday too.

I also like the new colors and picture.