Lysol to Rhetoric

Being a mother made me realize that I am now responsible for the well-being of other lives, which unsurprisingly, leaves me anxious during moments when I find it taxing to be responsible for my own well-being.  Other lives not only include my two young children, but also my husband who depends on me to put away his freshly laundered clothes, keep his side of the sink clean and remind him every once in a while to use the toilet with the seat up.  These occasional reminders rarely seem to work, as I often ‘catch’ him using the toilet with the seat firmly attached to its base.  Yet I can’t blame him, because he too, makes many sacrifices for me, I’m sure.

Even though he still can’t remember my natural cycle and realizes only after a wild, hormonal tantrum, that I’m simply PMS’ing, not crazy, I’m fairly certain that he makes sacrifices for me on a daily basis.  The only problem then, is that I’m more prone to thinking about my own sacrifices and struggles than his.

Only if humans were naturally wired to think about others before ourselves; only if God didn’t make it so difficult for us to accept (rather than blame) and share (rather than greedily hold onto), then many of today’s societal problems–marital, economic and political– will not be as rampant in spirit and destructive in nature, especially for the future of our young children.

Well, at least the raspberry iced tea at Seattle’s Best tasted really good with not one, but two extra packs of sugar.  It was a bit sweeter than I would’ve liked, but the discussion about Cicero and Quintillian was refreshing.  Not as interesting as finding flaws and inconsistencies in Aristotle’s writings, but refreshing nonetheless.

It’s difficult to go from scrubbing the stove with Lysol to lounging around a book store discussing rhetoric and philosophy.  But if I must make this awkward transition daily in order to achieve my lifelong dream, I have no choice but to bow my head and succumb to life.

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