I'm not in denial. I know. And it is because of this self-awareness that I am posting about my Flaming A Day!
This last Monday, Aug. 31st, (you'd better believe I marked it in my journal, too... with a big smiley face and a Praise the Lord in bubble letters next to it), I behaved the way so many of my favorite women behave: with that famous Flaming Type-A personality! And, just like I always surmised, I accomplished SO MUCH!
I was up, dressed, cheerfully flipping on lights and greeting my children with, "Good morning! This is it! First day of school!" I left them to get dressed while I skipped downstairs to make a pot of oatmeal. Before I knew it, we had all eaten, sent the high school boy off on the bus, loaded in the van so I could personally deliver Israel on her first day... and all this before sun-up!
My poor man who I'd ended up nursing through the weekend was loaded in the van, too. His palid complexion, feverish temperature, and barely croaked out, "It hurts to breathe and my throat's on fire," had me praying for a quick healing.
We got to the school, lined up, and met Rae's teacher, Mrs. H. I stood there when Mrs. H. introduced Rae to the little girl behind her, my little princess warrior ever the extrovert, when suddenly I gasped at the sight of a lunch box in the other little girl's hand! Lunch! There I was feeling so... accomplished (hey! I was on time!!)... as I realized my precious babies would be stranded without lunch that day. (My super-organized-super-mom sister, Catherine, would have called me by both my first and middle names. In fact, all my true Flaming-A friends would have rolled their eyes at me.) Well, in the next hour or so, (yes, it seriously took that long), while my husband slept -- or suffered -- out in the van, I remedied the lunch situation.
Finally, finally, we pulled up in front of Dr. Reinert's office! He checked my husband over and took a blood test, listened to Isaiah's cough -- just to make sure, and sent us home with prescription in hand. But on the way home I stopped by the post office to mail a package... (yes, Karen, it was the package I said I'd mail seven days earlier... when in fact I actually managed to get it to my trunk that day and then carry it around all week... argh... ) and ran in to the Commissary to grab 7-Up, Gatorade, and eggs, (the former two for my man).
And this is the way the rest of the day proceeded. Me, focused. On task. Accomplished! Mostly. If I could just have two or three days like this a year! I really try not to compare myself to other women. Really, I know it's not right. All my friends who seem to be able to "do it all." And still manage to remember to feed their children in the midst of it all.
I always feel so... justified in those Bible Studies when they tell us not to be such a Martha... be more like Mary. Okay, that's easy. I'm always trying to learn the art of being more Marth-like! I wonder, was Mary abstract random? Was Mary on her way to the kitchen with good intentions of helping Martha when she heard Jesus telling stories and was overcome with adoration for her Savior? Martha gets the short end of the stick. What if Mary was the one who got distracted? Okay, so she was distracted with the better distraction. But I still have so much admiration for my Flaming Type-A friends! I still want to be the fly on their wall! I still want to be more like them.
Most days I feel like Dory, the absent-minded fish on "Finding Nemo." My la-tee-da, "just keep swimmin'" approach to life. It's maddening, I tell ya!
But then, I guess that's the bottom line, isn't it? Balance.
Oh! That I may learn the balance of behaving responsibly and diligently... that my Mary heart will meet up with a Martha mind!
***The doctor called later in the day confirming that LeRoy had full-blown pneumonia and that he should stay on bed-rest for the remainder of the week. I am happy to report that at this writing, LeRoy is fully recovered and back to his usual self.