empty praise

Random blog post warning in effect.

Last night we watched “The Dark Knight.” The night before we watched “Hancock.” Within the last few weeks we also watched “Ironman” and “The Incredibles.” There is a recurring theme…yes, we seem to watch a lot of movies (it goes in phases). The recurring theme I am referring to happens to be about superheroes.

Last night, I wondered what that was, why were choosing superhero movies. I think it is a bizarre combination of morbid fascination (Heath Ledger), reviews of strong writing and theme development (I concur to an extent), good acting, and we didn’t want too much of a downer. (I know, there is a bit of irony there since most superhero movies have a ‘villian’ who tends towards massive amounts of murder. No downers there, watching a hospital blow up or anything…right? Riiiight.)

Anyway. No downers, just some well-directed entertainment. I thought about it some more today though as I checked a few blogs while confined by ice in my house and struggling with lack of motivation issues.  I then noticed another recurring theme in the blogs I happened to read…maybe because these people had recent posts. The blogs I got sucked into all are from people having adventures. (The Macys are three months into their around-the-world adventure. The Smiths are five months into their Bangor, Maine adventure. There are new moms and past co-workers and  friends returning from Disneyland.)

It made me think…why have I been sucked into stories about superheroes and adventures? I could go all analytical here. I could delve into some self-exploration about my self-worth or need to be appreciated or how much I wish I could be Mrs. Incredible. (Seriously, I love her powers and how good she looks in her little red outfit.) Then to state the obvious I could say that some of the recurring things in my life have been feeling a bit too much like being on a treadmill facing a wall. I know the work of mothering is supposedly paying off, but it sure seems to be the same scenery day-in, day-out.

But then, as soon as I feel myself heading down the slippery slope of discontenment, Eli asks me a question this afternoon:

“Do cows have penises?”

Yes, Eli the boy cows do.

“And the Daddy cows, too, Mom.”

Yep, them too.

“Does the milk come out of the boy cows penis?”

“Umm (pause simply to try to contain the laughter)…nope. The milk comes out of the cows udder.”

“Oh, it looks like a penis.”

Yeah. Yep. Sure. It does. What made you think about this Eli?

“Curious George.”

Okay. Thanks PBS Kids.

Anyway, sometimes I can feel judgemental and protective of moms. I think being a mom can be so incredibly undervalued, misunderstood and written off as a role that keeps one out of touch with the rest of the world. Sometimes, I think I contribute to this by my own need of validation outside of anything that has to do with being a mom or wife. It’s not that I don’t see myself as anything except mom and wife, it’s actually that sometimes I place too high of value on so many other things that the place these two unique roles have becomes undervalued. Does that makes sense?

It’s like, I don’t want a “mom haircut” and I want to color my hair, so I kind of freaked out when I couldn’t get my hair colored. (Because somehow, if I colored my hair the way that I want to color my hair, I will then have the appearance of not just ‘letting myself go’ physically and I will prove that I am still in touch with current styles.) That’s me: judgmental, shallow and vain about hair.

This last week, I read “I Was Told There’d Be Cake” by Sloan Crosley, who is actually younger than me. She’s smart, she’s witty, she is the kind of funny where you laugh out loud and then read the paragraph to under-amused husband -funny. Oh, and she’s into recreational drug use. So I was impressed and annoyed at the same time. She’s published. But…I hate drugs.

She didn’t have a ton of adventures. Sure, she lives in NYC which has the instantly cool factor thing going for someone. She just observed life and actually has been quite a bit of an idiot, yet she owned it, so that makes it a little better. But I read about her life. And it made me laugh. And it entertained me, and she doesn’t have any superpowers or crazy scarred villians she’s fighting off to save humanity.

Do I appreciate my life? Do I value the roles I have? Do I recognize the simple yet profound moments of influencing the lives of my children as I live out my days before their little eyes and minds? Am I preoccupied with future or past occurrences that somehow (mis)represent fulfillment?

My mother-in-law is nearing the end of her four months of chemotherapy treatment for Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. (It’s worth reading her online journal entries as she has shared moments of this journey.) I have shared a few different times to various people how there is some sort of irony, or incongruity between what is expected and what occurs, in this journey with cancer. She is technically diagnosed as Stage IVb Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma.  The cancer was growing everywhere in her lymphatic system, including her bone marrow. Treatment began almost immediately upon diagnosis, as doctors used words such as “aggressive” and “widespread.”

The ironic part is perhaps what many cancer patients before have expressed, but it isn’t obvious to people on the outside looking in or Hollywood for that matter. One of the other movies we watched this year was “The Bucket List” – the one where Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson set out to have all sorts of adventures and once-in-a-lifetime experiences before they ‘kick the bucket.’ Somehow I get the feeling that so many people are waiting for life to happen to them, waiting for a certain set of circumstances or opportunities or experiences to really feel alive. What is feeling alive anyway? Is it one of those things that is uniquely defined by each person? Probably. Is it an experience in a few amazing moments and then is it over?

Some of the transformation I have seen in my mother-in-law, and some of the transformation I have experienced in our family since this diagnosis has been evidence of truly living. And the stuff I am thinking of are times of honest conversations, shared dreams and fears, birthday parties and laughter and watching Tina Fey impersonate Sarah Palin. I am talking about simple dinners and prayers shared. I am talking about Eli praying for Jesus to make Grandma feel better.

These are my adventures.

Oh, and for the superhero moments…I pushed another human being out of my body after four exhausting days of labor in February. I also have been dealing with potty-training, irregular sleeping habits, and making sure that two children are living and growing. And I work for our church. And I really care about my work, so I give a lot of mental and physical time and energy to it. And I am committed to having a better marriage year #8 than the past 7, and I hope that year 9 is even better…so in otherwords, I am doing my best in putting time into my marriage because I think that a strong marriage is about as undervalued as moms sometimes.

Anyway. I said random blog post warning, I guess I should have said “EXTENDED” random blog post warning.

(Sorry if you don’t get my humor, just watch the local Portland news during winter weather. I know, I can be a bit of a dork.)