Oy. The guilt.
There was a recent no food/cold medicine/glass (okay, maybe two) of wine incident. We knew we shouldn't go to the party, as we were really sick. But we have these issues with morality and it seemed better to take the Sudafed and go to the wine tasting than to cancel on the nice people hosting it. We did not pick the best option and yes, I have fielded phone calls from folks laden with embarrassing recollections.
I learned, on the same day, at the doctor's office for said sickness, that I am infecting my family. He told me that I am a carrier of deep infection and that every time my husband and son get sick, it is all my fault. Actually, he said it twice, much more slowly the second time, to let the burden of this sink in.
I believe that guilt is not from God. But I also believe in behaving. I don't know much about parenting, but from what I can tell from those around me, what I DO has a lot more power than what I SAY. This boy needs to see his mama loving unabashedly and seeking understanding. I had a dream today that I was in Nepal with super-smart Betsy and Rebecca (who I'm trying to woo into blogging with me). We were told we could not buy a rug we wanted unless we found a "transcendent guest house" (this was said to us by Sam Elliot in a Bhutanese goh...have I mentioned I'm on a lot of cold medicine?). We kept looking in guest houses and asking, "is this one transcendent?" Perhaps that will be my new message to myself as I make choices. Is what I'm doing trasnscendent? Rebecca often asks me to ask myself, "How is this helping right now?" It's a good barometer reading. When that second glass was poured, I might should've asked myself, "Now, just how is this helping? And specifically, how is it helping little Gus?"
November is the month of gratitude. But for me, it may be the month of gratefully behaving. Starting tomorrow, I will floss twice daily, not eat so many salty pretzels, and be thankful for the folks that keep me on the straight and narrow. When Gus tells me that someone is a grouch (as he is prone to report--and with accuracy), I will not concur, I will instead ask questions that lead us to understand why someone might be grouchy. I will help us both transcend.
And I will stay home when medicated.
For your own transcendence, you might want to peek at this (how does a person pick which book is more amazing?). You could also read this, which is one of the sweetest little young adult novels I've read in a long, long time. Lastly, you could enjoy this:
Here's what matters about these leggy ladies. One of those girls finished a 50km running race lately. Two of them did a 60km adventure race a couple weeks ago in wicked-fast time. All of them are stellar and competitve athletes with enviable ab muscles. I don't know what they were thinking when they asked me to join their team, knowing I'm one kid and three years of training behind everyone. I couldn't do it. I was slow. I walked when I should have ran. I was winded and wincing and yet they committed themselves to doing every step of the race by my side. Even when one of the organizers swore at us and said, "Well, you're not dead--bleeping--last, but you're pretty-bleeping-close to it" as we came through a check point VERY late in the day, they kept laughing, holding my hand, and cheering me on. I asked one of the girls at the end, while gasping for breath, "Was it hard for you?" she looked up, pursed her lips and said, "Umm...I mean I kinda feel like I had a workout..." What she meant was, "Um, that was a fun little stroll through the woods with my grandma..."
I'm not even thinking about feeling guilty for their love (well...). Part of transcendence is accepting help. And being grateful. THANKS, ladies.
