What's a Mother to Do?

Today, I'm feeling a bit out of focus. Lost. The past 2 weeks have been stressful and exciting. The next 14 days promise to be intensifyingly busy, exciting, and stressful. Very little of that stress actually belongs to me but major events for one child or another of my family have come together in a potential collision over just a few days’ time. I don't really know what to do except offer support where I can and then just hang on for the ride.

 

Last week, one child showed me his bloody finger he injured while he was at work. It seems he caught his fingers in a conveyor pulley. He's fortunate, extremely fortunate. It's just badly bruised. I'm left thanking his guardian angel for making sure he didn't lose his finger, or fingers, or hand. All I could do was act nonchalant and take him to the doc to be sure it wasn't broken. I wasn't feeling particularly nonchalant, but what's a mother to do?

I can't make the wheels of bureaucracy move more quickly for another child. My child did her part and has dealt with seemingly endless indecision and foul-ups by others. She persisted in doing her part to push those she could influence. The wheels of bureaucracy, however, have refused to be greased into timely action. There has  been plenty of time to get some reasonably uncomplicated paperwork done. For some reason things are running 5 or 6 days late. Was it the record cold and snow that slowed the work?  Who knows. Can it the process be amped up in the last few days available? I sure hope so but it's out of my hands. What's a mother to do?

 

Then, there's the adventure my two youngest have found for themselves that has us in a tizzy. They joined a new, local robotics team. It's a rookie team in a competition style that's completely new to them all made up of kids with a little computer skills (at least those that they will admit) and a little robotics experience. They were just in it to learn a little and have fun. They weren't supposed to win anything, but they did. What they lacked in a quality robot for that first competition, they made up for in sportsmanship and charisma. They earned a spot in the state level competition. Many, many hours of team and individual work later found them with a much improved robot and skills that made them a more complete package. They weren't supposed to win but once again they earned a spot at the next level involving a 5 day trip out of state.  We only thought the work was intense before. I don't know if anyone's really kept a log of the hours the team has put in on this project now. The robot looks amazing, not at all like the sad little jerry-rigged thing it started out to be 6 weeks ago.  The team members are getting excited. Costumes? I really didn't dream they'd have time to think about costumes but that will be a reality. Team cheers, a tribute song, all signs that they are comfortable with each other and the progress they've made. I can't do the work for them. I can nudge or prod but it's their project, their team and I won't take that from them.  I'm in a support role here as well. What else is a mother to do?

 

Oh, and I've got things I'm supposed to be responsible for as well, plus a husband who deserves my support. Sometimes this role of a mom is overwhelming. It's like I can never do quite enough. What's a mother to do?

 

Choose Your Pen

"I am a pen snob," declared a classmate of mine yesterday as she retreived her favorite writing instrument from our table. Some folks laughed. I understood. I too am a pen snob. 

My favorite writing instrument is a fine point caligraphy pen. The most humble grocery list gains an air of elegance when written with a caligraphy pen. I love the feel of the nib against the paper.  I KNOW, through my sense of touch, that i'm transferring information from one media, my mind, to another. Most of my notes in college were taken using that pen. 

My second choice us an old fashioned fountain pen, a Parker 51 to be exact. It has a smoother feel than the calligraphy pen but the ink flows onto paper in a similar way.  The ink is not uniform. There are darker and lighter places as I slow to think or hurry to get an idea down. This pen belonged to my father. That adds to the attachment I feel for it. 

My third choice is a super fine point Pentel. It has that slight scratchy feel against the paper that the calligraphy pen has but is more reliable. It has an intensly precise feel.

The sense of touch, or connectedness I feel in my favorite pens, is important to me.  I was the child  who HAD to touch everything in the store. I didn't necessarily play with things, I just touched them. I'm still that way. I walk around an elevated track with a railing with vertical metal bars. Some days I can't resist running my fingers across the bars. It makes me smile to feel the rails tap against my fingertips.  I feel a bit like a mischievous child. 

Sometimes it's easy to feel a little disconnected. Life becomes so busy that you end up just making sure you hit the next check point. I'm not so sure that's really living life.   I heard a quote today that appealed to the pen snob in me.

"When writing the story of your own life, don't let someone else hold the pen." 

         Harley Davidson

Go grab your favorite pen and write!