Optional Post II

Yesterday morning my sister posted a "public service announcement" on facebook warning those in the Green Bay area that she was in a b*tchy mood. Last night I should have been the one sending out flares.

Sometimes it's hard to put a finger on my darker moods, and the best I can come up with now is that the past few days I've been feeling like that guy in Greek mythology who rolls the boulder up the mountain, only to have it roll right back down again (yes, I could google his name but you know who I mean). And I've been doing it all by myself. Bob has been out of town for most of the past two months, and I think I've been afflicted by PSPD (post "single" parent disorder).

Anyway, yesterday ...

the snow kept me from getting to the gym and grocery store; and although it might be pathetic I'm going to go ahead and admit I was looking forward to hitting Safeway - I have several new recipes I'm going to try out next week and it's fun to assemble the ingrediants (oh yep ... that is pathetic).

Bob didn't get home from work+gym+commute until almost 8, so the special shrimp scampi meal I had planned to celebrate Cearra's arrival home for Christmas break ended up tasting as if it had been sitting on a buffet at some (cheap) all-you-can-eat seafood restaurant.

After dinner there was yet another load of laundry to do, dishes to wash, toys to clean up, etc. etc. And another winter cold was sneaking up on my sinuses.

My friend Alison shared that she tries to focus on serving God by cheerfully going about her daily chores and making her home safe, comfortable and happy for her family (or something like that; I did get the point when she told me and it was helpful, although I know I'm making it sound rather revolting in a Stepford wife kind of way).

I try to do that, and sometimes it does help. But I realized this morning that I think the issue at core is that I'm feeling like I do not really accomplish anything:

I wash and put away clothes; the next day the hamper is full again.
I wash and put away dishes; the next day I have to do it again.
I clean the house; the next week, same thing.
I make a meal; gone in 15 minutes.
I clean the bathroom floor; next day it's full of hair again (Bob and I are hairy people)

... I think you get the point. I'm the guy pushing the boulder up the hill. And lately the hamster on a wheel is having more fun than me.

My last "real" job was in Global Marketing for Willis Insurance Brokers. I had a terrific boss who trusted in me and expected me to do a great job - and I did. I had a team of co-workers who I lead in preparing Willis for the Elliott Spitzer lawsuit that rocked the insurance world (before Spitzer rocked the prostituion world). I reviewed contracts for all of Willis' offices across the country; I traveled to NYC for meetings. Not every day was thrilling and there were days I would have rather been at home goofing off, but I accommplished something everyday. I was recognized for my brains, my determination, my skills. I got raises and bonuses. I got things done.

I gladly said goodbye to the corporate world when Owen came along. I feel that there is no more important job than being home with him, and most days I am happy, happy, happy. But there's no denying this recent bout of um, boredom - frustration - lack of enthusaism for my job now.

So I begin thinking that I need a hobby/project which allows me to actually accomplish something everyday - something that won't be dirtied, eaten, thrown away the next day. Something that won't get undone.

I considered some new craft that would provide me both with a creative outlet and fabulous Christmas presents for next year, and I realized that in a way writing is my hobby. It makes me feel creative, and bright, and it lets me get the swirling thoughts in order. I spend a few happy minutes babbling, hit "Publish Post", and wait for the encouraging comments (ahem) to follow.

And along with this post and heading to Michael's, maybe I just need an adittude adjustment. After all, I am creating something long-lasting and permanent with every daily chore. I am trying to make a happy, safe, comfortable childhood for Owen, and a pleasant home life for Bob and Cearra. There is value in those goals, even though it can never be measured in contracts signed or checks written.

Yes, I'm already feeling better about things. Bob is taking us out to breakfast so I don't have to face the cooking/cleaning combo just yet, and afterward I'll get to go to the grocery store (where I will be buying cold medicine).

I'll just go unload the dishwasher before we leave. With a smile on my face. Well, maybe not, but I promise not to actually throw any of the dishes. And that's a step back into the right direction.