Peace

Today I had planned on writing one of my typical dry, sarcastic blog entries. As I contemplated my entry, it occurred to me that perhaps I should write about something else.

This morning as I was curling my hair, my mind wandered back to the day I took my professional exams. For no particular reason, I began to wonder about the one other female who passed the exams that day. She had been a friend of mine in school and we worked together, both before and after graduation. For a moment I envied the promotion she must have received after earning her license and, for a split second, wished that her climb up the corporate ladder had been mine.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gibberish words set to a tuneless song floating down the hallway. As I listened to Emily sing, I realized that I wouldn't trade my little family for even the highest rung on the most prestigious corporate ladder. With this realization came a feeling which I thought had deserted me forever- peace.

For the last two years, I have been praying for deliverance from a situation in which I was not happy. I had everything I ever dreamed of except a career and I felt I would never be satisfied without that final piece. I wanted a way to have it all. I wanted to be released from the answer I had received when I prayed about staying home with my daughter. I searched for justification to return to work. All this created a panicked state of mind and constant feelings of dissatisfaction.

A few weeks ago, my prayers turned from requests for deliverance to requests for peace. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, peace has crept into my life. Nothing about my life has changed. I haven't received any more contracts for my pitiful home-based business. The terrible twos haven't disappeared. I'm still not able to afford new furniture, cute clothes or a nice car. Nothing has changed but my outlook. I am able to see blessings to which I have been blind. And that has made all the difference.

Spring!

Last Friday I was taking a diaper out to the trash can. It was the least likely of moments for something good to happen, but by the time I got to the curb, I suddenly realized that my nostrils were full of the scent of spring. Since then, I have heard birds twittering, spotted a few courageous blades of green grass and seen a tiny nondescript bug on the outside of my window. I could not be happier.

The renewal of life on the outside of my house threw into sharp relief the spotted carpet and dusty surfaces within. I knew it was time for my least favorite activity - the semiannual carpet steamer extravaganza.

Someday I will be wealthy enough to pay someone to do my carpets, but today is not that day. Three hours of cleaning, two pairs of soaking socks, two pairs of damp pant hems and a body full of aching muscles later, my family room and dining room carpets look as well as cheap carpet possibly can. Now I am too tired to move the furniture back to its place and am thinking of renaming the dining room the "ballroom". That way, I can just leave it empty. Perhaps I will open up a lemonade stand this summer so I can hire someone to clean the carpet in the fall.

A Case of Mistaken Identity

Today, just as I was getting ready to walk out the door, the phone rang. Since I wasn't in a hurry, I answered it and even held on the line through the long pause that follows an automated dialer. And I didn't even pretend it was the wrong number when they asked for Christopher or Rachael. It turned out, they had the right number but the wrong idea. Here's how the conversation went:

"Hello. My name is Yolandafaye from the Democratic party. In order to save resources, we have obtained a government contract to check on welfare recipients while conducting our party polls due to the many common members between the two groups. In that vein, I have two questions for you: 1) Do you plan on supporting Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama in the upcoming caucus? 2) Did you receive your government cheese for the month?"

After a moment of shock, I responded, "Um, actually, I'm not a democrat".

"Well, you're really missing out because government cheese is really top notch. Thank you for your time anyway and have a good day, ma'am".

I'm not sure how my name became a part of the the democrat's call list, but I suspect that someone is playing a cruel trick on me. I wish I knew who it was so I could get back at them by signing them up for brochures from the transgendered society. If anyone has a tip for me, it would be appreciated.

P.S. The part about the government cheese is a falsehood, but the part about the poll is totally true.

Finally, an Excuse!

For the last two years, I have been trying to come up with an excuse to go back to work. It needed to be something that would simultaneously assuage my conscience while requiring me to work full time. Since I am not blessed with a husband who is trying to find himself or large student loan debt, I have had to put my career on hold.

Yesterday, I finally discovered my golden ticket when I set foot inside Whole Foods market for the very first time. After spending a few moments in the store, two thoughts occurred to me: 1) My grocery purchases have been poisoning my family, killing the planet and fueling slave and drug trade in third world countries, and, 2) No family can be fed with organic food on one income.

So, you see, I have no choice. If I don't go back to work, my family will consume more artificial hormones each year via the beef we eat than the average pro athlete injects over the course of a lifetime. My current shopping habits cause 27 cases of chicken cruelty, 14 hours of child labor and $12,387 in drug trade each business day.

I had my resume all ready to go when I realized that in order to buy my groceries at Whole Foods, I would have to drive 40 miles one way just to get my shopping done. Since I'm not likely to do that, I guess I'll need another excuse to reenter the workforce. Any suggestions?

What About the Children?

Today my daughter is sick with one of the long string of colds that mark the path from fall to spring. Since she isn't having a great day, I decided to make her favorite food for lunch - tomato soup with elbow-roni. You can imagine my surprise when, as I was preparing to serve the soup, I discovered a piece of penne pasta nestled among the elbow-roni. Now I know how that poor woman felt who discovered a finger in her chili. Except, of course, she put the finger in the chili herself. The fault for the piece of penne lies squarely on the doorstep of Barilla. I am convinced it wasn't a mere accident. A piece of pasta shaped just like a you-know-what doesn't just accidentally fall into a box of noodles obviously intended for consumption by children. It just goes to show how vigilantly we must guard everything that comes into our homes be it over the airwaves, through the cable or via the grocery cart.

Not-So-Super-Wednesday

Today the nation is wading through the aftermath of Super Tuesday. The bottom line is that no upset was pulled, no long shot hit its mark and I am faced with the reality of having to either vote for John McCain or one of the two most liberal human beings this country had ever produced. I'm beginning to lose track of the difference between the two options.

This country was once a nation of people who took the initiative to fight against the strongest empire on the face of the earth because it was so important to them to have control of their own lives, religion, and money. Now it seems that the vast majority of citizens will not vote for a candidate unless he promises to give them something they neither earned nor deserve. Be it free health care for all or "tax credits" to those who do not pay taxes, it's all welfare under different names. What a sad sight to see our country go from "Give me liberty or give me death" to "Give me cash" in less than a quarter millennium.

Day of the Groundhog

We're all familiar with the standby "get to know you" questions: What is your favorite color? What is your favorite food? What is your favorite holiday? For me the answers are simple: blue, chocolate, and without a doubt, Groundhog Day.

Groundhog Day is not among the most popular of holidays but it is a day I look forward to more than Independence Day, more than Thanksgiving and, yes, even more than Christmas. "Why?", you ask. Well, Groundhog Day is the first day of the year we turn our thoughts toward spring. It signals the beginning of the gradual improvement in weather that eventually leads to the green grass, singing birds and mild breezes of summer.

Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today, forecasting six more weeks of winter. That doesn't matter to me, since spring never comes to Wyoming until weeks after the spring equinox. The only thing that matters to me is that the end is finally in sight. The stores are selling swimsuits and capri pants and the guy on the local garden show is telling us it's time to start our seeds inside. It won't be long until I'm back out in my flower garden trying to destroy the stubborn volunteer crop of morning glories, sporting my first sunburn of the season.