I am blogging from the doctor’s office. It seems to be a productive use of my time, because although my doctor is wonderful and well worth her exorbitant consultation fees, she is always running late.
This is the third time I have been to the doctors in less than twenty four hours. I took Bailey yesterday morning, after a coughing fit on Tuesday night left him dry reaching, and almost coughing up a lung; I took Bridie yesterday afternoon because her ear was infected again. (Bridie’s ears have a story of their own, which I am sure I will tell another time. Unless I have told it already. Should check the archives.) And today I am here for myself, because I have been on antidepressants for a month now, and the doctor wants to make sure they are working and not causing any drastic side effects, like my brain coming out my nose or something to that effect. I will be happy to report to her that I am side-effect-Free, and even better, happy and normal for the first time in a very long time, so please can I have more drugs? The very fact that I am able to be flippant about this is evidence that I am feeling better, because a month ago I couldn’t admit how I was feeling to anyone.
But apart from feeling wonderfully normal, I am also feeling incredibly ordinary. I keep having these dreams where I am this inspiring personality, delivering empowering speeches to anyone who will listen, but particularly my children. Then I wake up and realise that even if I could speak enigmatically, no one is listening.
Take this morning for example. I dreamt last night that I spoke to Taylah about some issue we had been having (can’t remember what), and my perfectly well chosen words motivated great change and new direction. This morning when I woke up and the issue presented itself, I had no idea what to say. I actually prayed that God would remind me what inspirational-dream-Jess said, cause real life Jess just had Taylah in tears.
Now occasionally an interactive blog viewer will tick the box at the bottom that says inspirational, so I assume that someone is getting something out of it. (Either that or they are just being polite.) But apart from those brief moments when I check the blog stats, I spend most of my life being nothing more than just Jess, or just a mum, and not a perfect one at that. My days are filled with the mundane, and repetitive doctor visits.
Now I am not saying all that because I want you to leave nice feedback down the bottom, or post comments on face book telling me how wonderful I really am (but feel free!), I’m just being honest. It can be easy to assume people have it all together when we just glance at a snippet of their life. To some I may look like I have all the answers, but in actual fact I have many more questions, and I’m quite happy to admit it!
Yesterday one of my favourite bible verse popped into mind.
sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. 2 Corinthians 6:10
Now this verse is part of a much larger verse that I think adequately describes the role of a mother to a T. I have broken it apart in my book which will hopefully be available for purchase early 2012.
But yesterday I remembered it in light of a completely different context. Poor, yet making many rich seems to fit perfectly with our families doctor visits. In fact, I think if it wasn’t for us, some doctors would be twiddling their thumbs, and eating two minute noodles.
We actually have a family ENT. How many other people can say that?
But there is more to that scripture than just an encouragement to pay your medical bills. I would hope that in my writing, I, being poor in my extreme ordinariness, would make you rich by inspiring you to greater heights in your own parenting.
I am a very vivid dreamer, and sometimes my dreams make absolutely no sense. Like one last night when my mother in law told me I wasn’t wearing enough eye shadow, or the one the night before which involved myself and an old school friend going undercover in a beauty parlor in an American mining town in the seventies, in order to solve a murder. I dream in detail, and I remember so much detail that sometimes it is hard to work out what is real and what’s not. My inspiring speech dream last night was so real, it was an extraordinary let down to realise that when the sun comes up, I’m still just me. And instead of inspiring I will probably be nagging. And instead of kids listening with rapt attention, I will have to make sure they are listening at all.
I have four blog ideas written down in my phone for when I get a spare minute, and this morning I couldn’t work up the motivation to write any of them. Extreme ordinariness hardly seems worth sharing.
But being poor and making others rich…now that seems worthwhile. And I don’t want to be another person who makes others feels less than adequate because I appear to have it all together. So I am here on the record to say that our lives are not perfect. I constantly make mistakes. Yesterday Bridie called me a bad mum. And in my dreams I am a lot more successful than in real life. (I even win Australian Idol!)
And I hope that by being completely uninspiring, you might in turn, be inspired.