Being home with a sick child is a recipe for doing wholly nothing. This has been well documented. Yet here I sit, adding my two cents to generations' worth of knowledge. I wish I could do something productive, explore new music, write something worthwhile... but I must temper my expectations. Today shall be a "Moderate Monday". If I do no more than care for the children, I will have done plenty - or so I tell myself.
But my heart resists. Do, do, do! screams the inner voice, the same persona that quivers, critically aware of the minutes scrolling by. She helpfully presents me with flash impressions of the items on my theoretical "to-do" list: clean up, find a cleaning lady, do the front closet, make supper, fold more laundry, pay bills, ad infinitum.
And my daughter whines because she lacks the tech skills to navigate my phone and locate the videos her siblings watch. I refuse to sit there showing her video after video until we both snap, screen-crazed and foggy, hungry and neglected. There has to be a way to engage her in real creative play. Or even to "cuddle her", as she sometimes requests.
It's the tedium that gets me, I think. Mundanity has ever been a problematic subject. (I touched on this yesterday when considering the value of intelligence versus hard work. See "You're So Smart." - not.)
What will it take to impress on me the value of, and blessing that is, a normal day? Don't answer that. I need to look at today as an opportunity to flex my gratitude muscles.
Today I am grateful for:
1. Family.
2. Shelter.
3. Security.
4. Spirituality.
5. Theyeshiva.net.
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