I was walking across my yard today in the rain with Owen in the sling on my hip and the big umbrella above us. We had just been across the street to tend to the neighbors' dogs who refused to go outside to pee and poop and well- that's just too bad for them. You try picking up a squirming thirty-pound dachshund with an eighteen pound baby in a sling on your hip and try to get that dog outside while manipulating a huge umbrella.
Yeah. Go ahead. I'm waiting.
But anyway, there I was, walking across our yard to the chicken coop so that Owen and I could feed Elvis and the hens and I had a realization and it may not be exactly an epiphany but it's as close as I'm going to come on a day like today.
What I realized is that I see my own worth entirely and I do mean entirely, on my actions and accomplishments. Is this normal?
When I can't get my tasks done, when I can't do what I'm supposed to get done, I feel like a failure. I literally cry when my husband hugs me and says, "It's okay, honey. You're sick." I apologize like a fool for not getting the peas planted and for not getting the laundry done. Do I think that my husband only loves me for the work I do around here? Is it possible that I really do, in my heart, believe that? And that if I stopped doing it for any reason, he would cease to love me?
Do I have a slave mentality? Have I been watching too much Wife Swap where women are always discovering that their families take them for granted?
I don't know. I think about my friends. The people I love. I don't judge them as failures if they don't get their dishes washed or garden weeded. My kids could do practically anything or nothing at all and I'd still love them as much as I love them now. I'd be concerned but I'd still adore them.
I suppose I've been thinking about this a lot today as I've spent my hours with my boy. He just left a few minutes ago and we had a good day. Every day with Owen is a good day. I talked to Lis on the phone and I told her that if Owen hadn't been here today I probably would have hung my head and cried. It's been that sort of day, mostly due to the fact that it seems as if all I've done is clean up pee and poop, both boy and dog-produced. Now I do not mind cleaning up Owen's pee and poop one bit. Nah. I love our diaper change times. But I did let him pee DURING a diaper change and ended up having to change all of his clothes, mine, and the sheets and mattress pad. And when we went back over to the house across the street there was a small river of pee which the dachshunds had produced.
And of course my dogs decided that their butts were too cute to go outside to pee and poop in the rain and so...
Well. It's been that sort of day.
And although I do feel somewhat better, I am certainly now what you would call all well.
But, Owen WAS here and so it was a good day and I've taken some pictures and I'll give them to you here. And thank those of you who have gone to visit over at Gatorbone. It's made Lis very happy and making Lis happy is a wonderful action and if we are indeed judged by those, then I judge you to be a very fine person. Also, as soon as she figures out how to reply to her comments, she will.
And one more thing- I have definitely not had time to go check y'all's blogs today or respond to your comments but I hope all is well and that your day was a good one too and that it didn't have as much dog shit and dog pee in it as mine did although there are worse things.
Catshit and cat pee for instance but I we won't be discussing that.
And if you have any ideas on the are-we-only-as-good-as-our-actions thing, let me know because you know I'm here, judging myself as a blog failure because I haven't returned the love today.
Well, I am comforting myself thinking of the lilies of the field and how they neither sow nor reap, etc., etc. and here are some flowers who don't do those things either but I love them. And some chickens and a baby and although I think both chickens and babies work pretty hard at their tasks, that is certainly not the only reason I love them.
Bradford pear blossoms against magnolia leaves.
White chicken (Daffodil) scratching in black dirt.
Miss Betty in the oregano.