Little of consequence

I've got nothing. The puking flu that plagued Opie last week went dormant for 7 days, then returned with a vengeance. He barfed his little heart out all afternoon, then begged and cried for dinner (he's got that young toddler "Eh! Eh!" whine down pat), which soon came back out in a most messy fashion.

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The other day there was a kid (age 5) pictured in our local paper. His name was, I kid you not, McGyver. All I could think was, Imagine the childproofing challenge that must've been.

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I read this quote in an essay by Anne Marie Feld that appeared a few months ago in the New York Times; it was excerpted from that book Mommy Wars, which has been blogged about extensively but I can’t bear to read. I've been meaning to mention it ever since. Feld writes:

In her insistence upon getting things done, on living an ordered life, my mother managed to miss out on the nourishing aspects of family life and life in general: laughing at silly things, lying spooned on the couch with your beloveds, sharing good food, the tactile delight of giggling children crawling all over you. Without this, family life is an endless series of menial tasks: counters and noses to wipe, dishes and bodies to wash, whites and colors to fold, again and again in soul-sucking succession.

I love this reminder that the reason why we do all that laundry and cooking and cleaning is because we love these little beings that trail behind us, dirtying everything in their path, and we want to keep them clean and healthy and safe (and as Julie would say, keep DYFS from our door). And I also love the reminder not to let the soul-sucking stuff be a means to an end, but just merely one small part of our family’s functioning. Much easier said than done, but a worthy goal nonetheless. Especially with this sick little boy generating even more laundry than normal, and putting me even more behind in my work (paid and un-) than usual. Get well soon, Opie.