This morning, she set her alarm for 6:15 to get up with the oldest, even though the night before she and her husband had agreed that HE would rise early and she would catch a few more zzzzz's.
Matron at 6:15: "Are you getting up?"
John: "Yes, remember?"
John: "Yes, remember?"
Instead of going back to sleep, she lay in bed listening to the patter and pull downstairs. Who was eating what for breakfast? Was the dog gate up so the yappy pair couldn't come upstairs and wake up Scarlett? Did Merrick find his robe or was he running around buck naked - cold?
Finally she gave in and got up for her own patter and pull, until she started fretting that nobody was standing on the corner just one minute before the school bus was scheduled to arrive. She scuttled downstairs.
John: "I'm not standing at the front door monitoring the time and bus. That's the bus rider's responsibility."
The oldest child did not miss the bus.
The oldest child did not miss the bus.
Scarlett: "Mom can I have some water with lemon?"
John: "Certainly. There's a pitcher in the fridge. Stand up and get it yourself.
John: "Certainly. There's a pitcher in the fridge. Stand up and get it yourself.
Merrick: "Mom can I have some Lucky Chawms?"
John: "There is a box and bowl in front of you. Pour."
In one big epiphany in which the Universe picks up the Matron by the shoulders and gives her a real good shake, she suddenly understood why the chore list was so hard to implement. For the past six weeks, the children have been more or less successfully cleaning their own rooms, taking turns doing laundry, picking up dog poop and other mundane household chores.
That the Matron sometimes does for them. Or chains herself to the counter top so that she will NOT sweep the floor even though it is crunchy.
Because it is all about CONTROL. Hers. Over everything. She has so little control over the big stuff (death, children growing into who they really are rather than who she thinks they should be, how the husband operates, who the President is and whether or not she'll get the flu -- you know that endless list) that the little stuff takes on great import.
Excuse her while she goes and turns up the temperature on today's weather or learns to let go a little bit. . . . breathe. The moment is the only way to go but, man, it is hard to get there.
9 comments:
I hate to admit it, but I am so like this. I wish I weren't, but I can't help myself. I think I feel like it will all reflect on me anyway whether I'm the one doing the work or not, that I need to do it.
Nearly 200 daily readers and nobody else is a control freak? My, my!
Hmmm...I can't remember the source of this quote. Mark Twain, perhaps? "Everybody talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it!"
Oh yeah. I hear ya.
Such a hard thing to let go of control. But I'm learning, too. And it feels good to see others we love succeed independent of us, doesn't it? Leaves more time for FUN stuff:)
I make a conscious effort to surrender almost every single day. It's very hard to look at Critter's gray laundry, the crap lying around everywhere, the moldy water bottles, etc. But she really and truly does not care about those things one bit - didn't feel more loved when I took care of it all. I struggle to understand.
Control freak #2 is present. I've somewhat managed to reduce myself from being a clean freak to a neat freak usually.
Nearly 200 daily readers and nobody else is a control freak? Work from home India
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