Whatever...

Last Thursday at swimming, Lucy got sick. It's Monday, and she's still sick. By Saturday night I wasn't feeling so great, and by Sunday afternoon, neither was Elaine. The job of "Mother" does not allow for sick days, I have found. Last night I left a message for my boss (my editorial boss, not my mothering boss), saying I need to work from home today (she's always nice about this, and believe me, I'm more than a little thankful for it).

But...today. Yet another winter day. Stuck indoors with a sick toddler and sick pre-schooler. You know what? They're not particularly gracious or accommodating when they're sick. Also, they're kind of demanding. Just picture if you will lots and lots of inconsolable crying, screams of rage, seemingly thousands of requests such as: "Mom, can I please have some juice?" "Mom, I need you to come up here." (I climb up the stairs) "After I watch this Muppet movie, can I watch Pooh?" (The Muppet Movie has just started. But...she needs to know the TV schedule for the day, I guess.) "Mom, can you please come up here? Elaine said your clock radio is a toy. Tell her it's not." And did I write some silly post last week extolling the virtues of age 2? Because it's a hideous age: "Want juice." "Want ginner ale." "Go swimming." "Wear my pajamas." "Scooch over, Mom." (pronounced "Stooch") "Want snack. In a bag." "Wanna treat." (Punctuate each of these with tears and flailing.)

I look over the house (the house I just cleaned oh so recently) and there are toys and DVD cases and unmade beds and tossed pajamas and cups after cups after cups in various stages of fullness. There are dirty dishes. I can see dried splashes of juice on the floor (that I just washed). And here's the thing--I don't even let my kids drink juice or ginger ale or wander around the house with drinks in their hands or watch TV non-stop 24/7, but right now my own resistance is so low that my answer to everything is just "Whatever." Yes, run around with the digital thermometer, repeatedly pushing its buttons so it will break and we won't be able to tell what your temperature is. And, oh, both of you fight over it while you're at it. Whatever. Yes, grab up my new magazine that just came in the mail and I haven't read it and it's all about the beautiful spring flowers that I'm convinced we'll never see again and stomp your feet all over it. Whatever. You want more juice? Spoon up concentrate from the can. Whatever.

This morning when Lucy made her first requests (and she really is sick and I do feel sorry for her) for juice and ginger ale, of course we were out, so I decided to run down to Hilander. I'm always in a hurry anyway, but I had to get back because I had to get online to get my assignments for work for today, so I was in an extra hurry. It looked rainy and foggy out, no big deal, but apparently it was also very icy because the next thing I knew, I was face down on the driveway. I'm convinced there's a literary metaphor there somewhere.

I kept on with the day. I took a trip to the library during my lunch hour because we've exhausted all the DVDs at our house, and I took Elaine with me. Oh, take a toddler who's barking like a sea lion and has a nose like a river out to the library? Whatever. (Also, can I throw these questions out to the cosmos? Why is any random space at the library, even ones not particularly close to the door, handicapped? And why, when I asked a librarian who was peacefully shelving books and not under any apparent strain if the kids' DVDs were with all the other DVDs did she say 'yes' even though that was completely untrue?) Whatever.

I'm sure some people might think I'm Queen Complainy from the Ha-whiney Islands in this post, and maybe you might be right. And maybe someone thinks, "You've just got two kids! I've got 4! or 5! or 8! Get a real problem!" I can't help you there. I've never been good at math, but here's one equation that applies to my life: 2 kids + 2 hands = Alice's hands full. I also consider my 60% workweek my third child, but maybe that's another story (which, by the way? My job assigned me a significant project filled with errors to edit by the close of business--and got it to me to start at 11:00 a.m.) Whatever.

Also, it's now snowing heavily out, and I still need to go to Super Wal-Mart (and oh how I love a trip to Super Wal-Mart. Except...NOT AT ALL) and pick up groceries because we're out of most things we need (except juice and ginger ale!) WHAT A DAY.

Then I am reminded of the words in Isaiah 40:11 "He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; He gently leads those that have young."

I'm so glad for that. I'm glad that there is a special place of pity and kindness in the Shepherd's heart for exhausted mothers. When I'm running around and trying to keep it together and am pulled between so many people and responsibilities and I end up face down on the driveway, I am so so thankful that He doesn't look down at me and say, "Whatever." Instead He says, "Come unto Me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11: 28).