Let me set the scene for you.
I had just finished a long, busy day caring for kids in the daycare, and had made my way to the kitchen to make some dinner for my family. My youngest, eight year old Gino, came in and sat down at the table, and started chatting with me. Before long he had brought up the subject of my blog. I hadn’t specifically mentioned to him that I had started this blog, but he had seen my Facebook page, This Wicked, Wonderful World by Jill Palilla, a couple of weeks back and was just a tiny bit fascinated by it, because he has a true love for writing stories (which are pretty darn impressive, if I say so myself), and I think that in his mind, my blogging catapults me into a status of sorts.
Like as in Wonder Woman type status. And I am okay with that 🙂
He seems particularly interested in the fact that I like to write about everyday life as I know it, by sharing things that happen to me or our family, as opposed to how he uses his wild imagination to write very detailed and entertaining fiction stories.
He asked how I decided what I was going to write about, and I explained that sometimes it’s simply something funny that has happened that I think other people might enjoy hearing about, or it might be something more serious that is on my mind often, or a part of my everyday life that I struggle with–and sometimes writing about it helps me “figure it out” in a different way. He seemed to get that…. Maybe even more than I realized.
So as we’re chatting, he says this….”Hey mom, I have an idea for something you can blog about. You could talk about how you never are able to get all of the dishes done at one time. You know, like how you’ll start to do them and then go do something else before you finish the big pans and stuff?”
What?! What did he just say? Oh NO, he DIDN’T just say that.
Well. Reeeeeeaaalllly. That kid has a lot of nerve. Who does he think he IS telling me that I need to BLOG about the fact that I can’t seem to get ALL of the dishes done at one time?! I mean, seriously, does he see all of the work that I have to do around here? I’m only one person, for crying out loud. And BY THE WAY, Mister, those pots and pans NEED to soak overnight! …..
Okay. Perhaps he had unknowingly hit a nerve.
One of the touchiest, most sensitive nerves that I have. Because he’s right. I almost NEVER finish all of my dishes at one time. It drives me crazy about myself that I do it. I KNOW this about myself, and I always tell myself to just finish the darn dishes, already.
But sometimes I just don’t want to. Yeah, that’s embarrassing.
And even more often than me simply not wanting to do them, THIS happens:
I’m washing the dishes and I remember that I need to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer, so I stop the dish washing to do that. While I’m in the laundry room, I see Gino’s basketball jersey and it reminds me that I need to check to make sure that his basketball shoes are in his bag for the game. I am on my way to look for his game bag and as I walk through the living room, I see little pieces of paper and debris on the carpet from a project that Vincent was working on, and remember that I need to fix the sweeper and get that cleaned up. I detour to where the sweeper is sitting, turn it over and realize that I need a screwdriver to take the bottom off, so I go to the basement to get a screwdriver. While I’m down there, I catch a glimpse of a box containing files with old receipts and bills, which then starts me thinking that I need to get bills paid, and I’m sure by now you probably already know that I never go back to finish the dishes. It’s Attention Deficit Cleaning Disorder at it’s finest. I AM the poster child for this. I admit it. It’s a big problem.
But let’s be honest. The truth hurts, doesn’t it?
You MAY have your defenses beefed up to a level of such high beefiness that you don’t let your truths hurt you, they just anger you. I, my friends, have been guilty of THAT for many, many years when it comes to the matter of me hating, despising, and ignoring the task of washing (and finishing) the dishes. Just ask my significant other, he will attest to the fact that we’ve had more than one heated discussion about it…. I’m not proud. And then there’s the fact that he’s rather OCD about things being neat and orderly, and let’s face it…I’M NOT. You can see the struggle there, right?
And then, (as I found out last night), out of the blue, for some reason the same truth you’d be presented with many times and were simply angered by, hits that one oh so sensitive nerve and the pain is shocking. Because that particular nerve is directly linked to the PRIDE. And suddenly you know. You need to change so that your truth isn’t something that hurts anymore. It’s funny how suddenly something clicks and you realize that, even though it’s been put in front of you so many times.
I finally can admit that I need to work on this. He was right.
But before my mind processed all of that, though, I was still in the “Oh NO he DIDN’T say that” emotional state, and I had promptly told Gino that YES, in fact the dishes WOULD all be finished at one time tonight, and this is why:
**As a side note, and a subject matter for another day, he is incredibly intelligent but REALLY needs schooled in WHAT NOT TO SAY TO WOMEN 101.
Disclaimer: No children were injured in the washing of these dishes.