WHAT IS AND WHAT COULD NEVER BE

I was never one of those girls that planned a big white wedding in a church. I didn't dream of having kids and a husband to care for. It was my big sister that always pretended to nurse her dollies on her belly button. I played with stuffed animals and made them talk. I tried to sneak back in the room and catch them at it...and this was long before “Toy Story” ever came out. I did pretend that Don Jonson wanted to date me, but I never took the vows with him. His occupation was far too dangerous.

I always said I wanted to be a “starving artist” and live in an apartment in the city with a lot of cats. I think I said that because it's actually the opposite of my country personality. I wanted to be grown up and live a life different than everyone around me, which at the time meant out of the dirt and trailer houses. Maybe this idea came from the movies. The little bistros and cobblestone corners on the Lady and the Tramp. The parks and skippy streets of Mary Poppins. Nothing seemed to happen in the country.

Now, I can't imagine what my life would have been in the cat ridden apartment. Lonely, I guess. Empty the litter box and order take out again. Call up an artist buddy to go bar hopping with and wonder why all of the good guys are taken. Dye my hair punk white and work on another painting to sell. Sounds like a story book romance to me.

Instead I got married and had children. I became a wife and a mother and moved out of my small town into another small town. I didn't have a big wedding in a church. I had a little hippie wedding on a beach. I didn't have the 2.3 kids; one boy and one girl. I have three girls with unmatching outfits that sing made up songs about lightning and thunder while they help me cut veggies for dinner. And I have one on the way. It's already being inundated with kisses and stories through the belly.

I married my 19 year old boyfriend that I couldn't stop kissing in public. We lived in our van with our mutt dog and went on long hikes. Then we bought property and planted trees and pushed little girls on swings. We still kiss in public but no longer make out on people's couches at parties, which is a sign of maturity.

What would a glimpse at the life I might have had, show me? What would I learn about myself? Would my sweet Travis have found me in my city apartment? Would I have sold many paintings? Would I still have punk rock hair?

I suppose I would have ended up looking for a version of what I have now. I think we all eventually do. We all want to be held and loved and accepted and needed. And there is no better way to be needed than being a wife and mother.

“Where are my socks?”

“In the drawer where they always are.”

“I looked and they are not there!”

“Well, that's why I tell you to put your stuff away, so you can find it later. Borrow your sister's... and for God's sake, PUT YOUR SOCKS AWAY NEXT TIME!!”

No one can make it without a mother. Even Peter Pan wanted one. You can only play “kid” for so long and soon you are wanting a bed time story and some home made doughnuts. Even Mommies want a Mommy.

Or better yet, a nanny. She would have to be old with fat ankles, or I might get jealous of the attention Travis would spend bragging on her doughnuts. She could be on the clock after dinner while I snuggle on the couch and listen to her clanking dishes in a tub of soapy water. She could wash the bedding and mop.

But really, it's all of the little mundane chores that make this job so sweet and special. If I gave them all away then what would be left? Just the hugging and playing. And you can't appreciate the good stuff without the hand chaffing stuff. It's the reward at the end of the day.

Chopping kindling and washing and wiping and frying and sweeping are the ties that bind. The little conversations had over the cracking of the walnuts bonds us together. Then all of the hugging and kissing and snuggling are my treat.

If I could trade it all for a career, I wouldn't. I don't know what I was thinking. It's kind of like having a tattoo. It used to be so “rebel,” but now it's as common as an earring. You have to be pretty brave to stay at home with your kids. Being a mother is the most underrated job in the Universe. “I'm just a housewife...” No! I am the SUPER housewife. I have magic in my fingers and power in my words. I change seasons and heal wounds. I make it all happen with a snap of my fingers and a wave of my wooden spoon! I am unstoppable!!

And I wouldn't give it up for cats. Or punk rock hair.

Luck Schmuck!

“I find the harder I work, the luckier I am.” Ben Franklin said that.

I agree wholeheartedly.

I don't like the word “lucky.” It's annoying.

The only things that have to do with luck are the weather, the radio, and poker games.

I am not “lucky” with potty training. Not one of my kids just magically took off their diaper and decided to never poop their pants again. It was my stubborn decision to stop buying, changing, and throwing away diapers. I worked at it like a job. It meant always being interrupted in adult conversation and getting up off my seat every time I got comfortable. It meant missing the first hot bites of a meal and trying not to lose my appetite for the meatloaf, while I was being the bathroom monitor...for the millionth time. But it was worth it!

Yes, I have good kids. There is no denying that. They are intelligent and capable girls. But, humans are naturally lazy. Who wouldn't mind sitting in their dirty little Huggies, when there are still toys to play with and raisins to nibble? Why move? Life is good, even if it is a little smelly.

They all told me I was “lucky” when my first daughter was diaper-less at fifteen months old. I was told, repeatedly, that it wasn't “good” to start potty training until after their second birthday. (Hm.) After my second one was going potty like a big girl at one year old...the “lucky” comments slowed down. When the third child was being taken to the bathroom as an infant, I endured the rolling of the eyes and the, “You've got to be kidding!”

I guess I made people mad. I didn't care because it meant one less pressed mess. After that the only comment was, “Just wait until you have boys.”

Grandma told me a story once and I just love it.

There was an old farm that hadn't been lived in for a decade. The fence was falling down, the barn roof was leaking, and the porch was all caved in. A man bought the place and began to work diligently on repairing all of the neglected damages. After a time, a friend came to visit him and see the progress on the property. As they sat on the newly stained deck, drinking a cup of coffee, the owner surveyed the place with a feeling of pride and awe. His friend was impressed.

“Wow,” he commented to the land owner, “what a beautiful farm the Lord has given you!”

The man was quiet for a moment as he thought about this.

“Yes, it is.” He replied. “But you should have seen the place when the Lord had it.”

That's how luck is. The Divine gift is the land, the weather, and the life energy that we are blessed to have and be a part of. The work that we have to do, to make it shine and radiate with glory, is the frosting of it all. It's our life's calling to make things shine and create beauty around us, with what we are given. A man can be gifted with wealth and squander it away in his excitement of being so “lucky.” But it takes meditation, thought, and determination to keep that treasure and to make it last and truly enrich his life.

I wish there was a potty training Leprechaun. I also wish there was a fairy that would come and do my dirty dishes at night. But, the truth of why I'm so lucky to have a clean house in the morning is because, instead of sitting down and watching a movie, I am scrubbing pans. And instead of letting the little girls watch another movie, I am training them to scrape their plates and grab up a broom after they each haul in the firewood.

I am blessed beyond measure with health and a beautiful place to live. I am lucky to have such beautiful people in my life to share it with. I breathe a sigh of thanks, constantly, to have children with ears that hear, eyes that see, and minds that thrive on learning. I am not ignorant of the Grace that this Loving Life has bestowed upon me. So don't get me wrong. I don't take a bit of it for granted.

But, I will not sit down on the ground and wish for more money or wish for a garden or wish for my bed to be made. I will pray for the strength, and the drive, and the weather to make it all happen. I will get up early in the morning and survey the list of chores. I will wipe counters and faces until the cows come home. And at night, when all good little girls are in bed, I will do a little Leprechaun jig and smile. One more day down. What a LUCKY woman I am!!