Ordinary Sunday

- For breakfast I tried a new All-Bran cereal. Rather than tasting like flavorless straw in my mouth, it was actually good!
- I finished an incredible book.
- I finally sorted through paperwork for re-licensing requirements.
- I worked out scheduling and vacation for a trip to Nashville.
- I Drano-ed the bathtub, cleaned out the fridge, then washed dishes. And here I thought I had lost all my Tupperware and spoons.
- Then I had to take out the garbage, of course. And since the recycling has been sitting in the middle of the dining room for 3 days, I took that out too.
- I had time and quarters to do a load of laundry, which doesn't sound like much, but those two things together are actually, like, miraculous.
- I decided to walk to the gas station for my paper while my laundry dried, just because the sun was shining. On occasion I still become overwhelmed by the fact that I am able to walk. The sun and this knowledge make me happy in a very simple way. Even when I'm wearing my pajamas out in public, it's really cold, and all I need is a silly newspaper.
- I saw a new flavor of my favorite gum and the clerk at the counter poitned out a "Buy one, get one free" coupon that I hadn't seen. I love it when people are nice to me!
- In my gratitude for the sun, walking home, I thought about yesterday - a cold and overcast day, filled with tiredness and too much bad food at an education conference for work. I followed that thread of thought more specifically into the obstetrics/gynecology presentation, and how most of my male co-workers, and even some of the mothers in the group, talk so negatively about children, motherhood, marriage, and the female body. It breaks my heart. It makes me angry, and steals my hope away.

After the conference, I went to a church variety show to watch a friend and her daughter perform. Next to me, bouncing in the aisle as he crunched on his bright-blue stick of rock candy, was the most adorable little wide-eyed boy. He studied me as I smiled broadly at the performers. I would feel his eyes on me and turn to him; each time he would greet me with a broad smile of his own, and would dance around with even more joy. Every time, I wanted to cry. "God, please, someday bless me with a husband who loves me through and deeply, and bless us with a beaming treasure like this little boy." Despite the fact that the world would have me believe this isn't worth wanting, and that instead of being capable of producing a miracle, my body is somehow dirty, mysterious, or frightening.

It's amazing all that runs through my head in four short blocks. I laughed out loud when I thought: You know, if I am ever blessed with a family of my own, my kids don't stand a chance at being "normal." They'll be singing out loud as they walk to gas stations in their pajamas in the dead cold of winter, and they'll probably say something in a foreign language to the attendant. Then they'll come home and write about the experience. Before they slap on a uniform and head off to save the world, one drunk at a time. And that would only be ONE parent's contribution...