Hero Support

I have to say something slightly controversial. Personally, I don't see WHY it should be controversial as it only effects my little world. The funny thing about statements like this though is that when you say them, the responses you get are a mix of shock and incredulous disagreement like everyone is sure you can't be serious or maybe you need a straight jacket.

Here goes: I know my purpose in life and it's not to be a superwoman but simply to be Hero Support. There. I said it.

It seems like there's this pressure from all directions for everyone to be so goal oriented and successful and that's wonderful to an extent. Let's not forget the whole everything in moderation thing though. You see, the reality, folks... is that we can't ALL be superheroes. The reason for that is that superheroes wouldn't be able to do everything they do without their trusty sidekick. They would be utterly lost! At the risk of sounding conceited, I'm going to admit that I believe I have the tools to be a superhero. I just choose not to employ them full time because I'd rather be happy. Nothing makes me as happy as being the one behind the scenes making sure my heroes have what they need to succeed. I'm not at peace otherwise.

I started thinking about this yesterday afternoon when I was hanging a series of pictures I had taken of various nature scenes in the Pacific Northwest. I was telling my kids how cool it was the way that everything in nature has an order and purpose. I have a photo from Lake Quinault that illustrates how the elk maintain the openness of the rainforest by browsing out brush and saplings, which in turn encourages the growth of herbaceous ground cover such as oxalis and violets (the pretty stuff.) The old dead trees are aging gracefully as new life in the form of saplings and ferns are springing from them. In general, the abundance of dead wood and the complex structure of the forest canopy create an enormous number of ecological niches for animals and birds. I'm in awe of the Sitka spruce. Do you realize that it only grows within 20 miles of the ocean because the fog that rolls in off the Pacific is critical since it can't control the amount of water that it loses to transpiration itself? Sure, you could probably go the rest of your life without knowing any of that and be okay. I think it's amzing though. EVERYTHING has a purpose.

There are lots of things that I'm good at, lots of hats that I could wear in this life. I don't think that any of them have ever felt as RIGHT as when I'm serving in my roles as mom and wife. I'm TIRED of people starting conversations off with "What do you do?" Even when I tell them what I do at my actual "Job" I don't feel like I've told them anything about me. When I try to explain that I feel like I was born to raise kids I typically hear, "But what do you do to feel fulfilled?" "What about you? Don't you take care of yourself?" Of course, I do. It's just that when I go out and try to accompish some big thing that I can point to and say, "I did that!" I don't really feel like I've done anything to be proud of. It's an empty sense of faux-satisfaction.

I honestly believe that no matter what career path I went down or what amount of money or fame I got along the way, nothing could ever make me feel so complete as making my kids their favorite snack while they tell me about their day or rubbing my husbands shoulders when he's exhausted from the weight of the world. I think the reason Heavenly Father put me on this earth isn't to be a superhero but to do all the little day to day tasks so that someone whose life I touch can do what they need to do. Like the decaying tree in the forest, I think I'm aging gracefully and continually contributing so the circle of life can go on and really... that's all I ever need.

Conversation From the Backseat

Lately, I’ve been cracking up at some of the things that I hear my kids talking about when we’re driving down the road. I thought I’d just tell you a few conversations that I overheard this week.
background: There’s a commercial on the radio for some medication. As we listen to the typical "possible side effects may include but are not limited to... headaches, constipation, priapism....women who are pregnant or who may become pregnant should not use this medication...."
Lane says, "Women who may become pregnant? Why don’t they just say women can’t use this medicine since women can get pregnant?"
Tatton says, "Cause it’s still okay for some women to take it."
Lane, "Not if they’ve gone through puberty, Dude. Well... I guess if they went through menopause..."
Tatton, "Un-uh!! Haven’t you ever heard of a geriatric pregnancy?"
Lane, "What the heck is geriatric, Dude?"
Tatton, "You know, like old people and stuff."
Lane, "Old people don’t have babies, man!"
Tatton, "but they’re allowed to. They can adopt."
Lane, "That doesn’t mean they can’t take this medicine, stupid!"
I had a really hard time keeping quiet. Who knew my kids knew so much? Or even cared enough about the subject to discuss it? LOL

Then, of course, there was the debate on child labor. We were driving to the dollar store when I was informed:
Tatton: "You know, it’s kinda evil that you shop here."
Lane: "Shut Up! It is not! Evil is like killing people and stuff."
Tatton: "Well, it’s impossible to buy stuff that cheap without ripping someone else off."
Lane: "The store would make the price higher if they couldn’t afford it. Lots of people shop there so they make lots of money."
Tatton: "Not the store! Don’t you know there are kids our age making this stuff for like less than the price of a candy bar a month!"
Lane: "Prove it."
Tatton: "Duh. Everyone knows."
Lane: "I think it’s an urban legend. like cow tipping."
Tatton: "Why do you think all of the other countries hate us?"
Lane: "They don’t even know me."
Tatton: "Not YOU! I mean, America!"
Lane: "Oh, that’s just cause we’re trying to catch the terrorists."
Tatton: "That sentence didn’t even make sense! Do you watch ANYTHING besides Nickelodeon, Dude?!"
Lane: "Duh! The Simpsons! That’s on Fox."
I can’t decide whether to just laugh at them or to try to get them an audition at CNN.

And last, (for now):
Brooke: "Mom- Do I HAVE to get married when I grow up?"
Me: "No, you don’t HAVE to. You’ll have to figure that out when you get there, Sweety."
Brooke: "Well, I don’t wanna."
Lane: "You have to or you’ll be one of those crazy cat ladies."
Brooke: "Un-huh! Mom said I didn’t have to!"
Tatton: "I like cats."
Brooke: "If you don’t get married are you allowed to have dogs?"
Lane: "Duh- of course."
Brooke: "I might get a horse, too."
Tatton: "But married people have horses too."
Brooke: "Well, I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to have kids. It hurts to get your belly skin stretched out."
Lane: "I thought all girls wanted to have kids."
Tatton: "And expensive weddings."
Lane: "Unless you get married in Vegas. Elvis is cheap."
Tatton: "But people lose money gambling, so that’s expensive."
Brooke: "Lilo & stitch like Elvis."
That’s some of the dialogue from our car...
If you notice, Russell wasn’t involved in any of these conversations. That’s because Russell is more of the strong, silent type (unlike the rest of my blabber-mouths that go on... and on... and on...) I’ve thought several times that if we had been Jews hiding from Nazis, Russell would probably have been the only one of my kids to survive. I would have accidentally smothered the rest in an effort to silence them.