Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Surrender

Dear State Board of Accountancy:

Enclosed, please find one certificate to practice public accounting in this state. You didn't need to get threatening about it, I was going to send it back anyway. I was just having a hard time parting with those shiny letters 'CPA' and the right to put them after my name if I was feeling insignificant. There was something comforting about having a title, about having something that proved I had worked hard and been successful.

And I did work hard. I earned the right to those letters through countless hours of juggling work, classes and a husband. I paid for it in the currency of lost hours, of conversations never had, intimacy set aside in pursuit of my goal. I was going to be self-sufficient. I wasn't going to depend on anybody.

It took me several years to figure out that wasn't what I wanted. That it didn't matter how good I was, what my test scores were or how much the clients loved me. I was empty. Bit by bit my drive to BE someone had drained me of who I REALLY was. I tried to make a go of it, to live up to my expectations of myself. And I was miserable.

It took something fierce to start to pry my grip away. A fierce love for a child that I knew needed me in a way for which there was no substitute. It took mama bear love standing up and declaring that I wasn't going to be afraid, that I would be there for my child. It's been just over three years and I can honestly say I have never regretted a moment of it.

But still I clung to that title like a child clinging to a security blanket long after it loses the ability to keep them warm. The 'what if's of fear, the lack of financial security...those are tough demons to conquer. Far easier to have a fallback plan that I am in control of.

I'm giving up now. I'm surrendering. Along with my certificate I'm surrendering my need to be in control of my life. I'm surrendering the idea that I even CAN be in control of my life. I am convinced that the God who brought me this far has much better plans for me, plans that do not involve public accounting. So you'll just have to muddle along with one less public accountant in this state; I'm pretty sure you'll manage just fine. There's a bigger call out there, a wind that is gathering to take me to places unknown and I'd prefer not to be anchored in the past.

So file this certificate in the file marked 'F' for 'Freedom!' And who knows, I may even do a little William Wallace "Freeeeeeeedoooooom!" yell when I put this in the mail. My neighbors might think I'm nuts, but that's OK.

Sincerely,
Simply Rea



photo by Jesus Solana


Friday, September 10, 2010

7 Quick Takes Friday - 9/10/10

1

Eight year olds have very little concept of the relative amounts of time it takes to complete a task, and apparently I have not been exploiting this encouraging the development of this skill to its full potential. I discovered this one recent Sunday when I told Gates he needed to sweep the Wheaties strewn floor around his chair.

"Noooooo!!!! I ALWAYS have to do it!!!!!! I'm TIRED of doing it!!!!! I don't want to do it!!!!!" Always meaning like once every other week or so for the past few weeks when he's made a significant mess.

So I tried some Mom psychology on him. "Well, I ALWAYS have to do the dishes and I don't want to so I'll tell you what, I will sweep the floor if you do the dishes."

"OK, I'll do the dishes."

Not quite the response I was going for, but OK, I can roll with this. Expecting him to back out at any minute we emptied the dishwasher, re-loaded it, ran water in the sink and washed all of the pots and pans. He declared it 'not that hard'.

He's also already negotiated the fact that at chores go, washing dishes ranks up there enough in difficulty to be worth 50 cents on his chore commission chart. I'm still trying to figure out if I got lucky, or if I got played.

2

I was always an imaginative child, so it makes me happy to see my boys following in my footsteps as they make up stories. Indy has this down to an art form. He can take any object and turn it into a HUGE cast of characters. For example, the refrigerator words:


I got these for Gates a year or so ago in the hope that it would help his ability to write creatively. He's got the creativity in his head, he just has trouble getting it down on paper. Well, he pays no attention to them. Indy, however, has recently discovered the joys of words. And I don't mean reading them. No, he'll sit there by the refrigerator for an HOUR (no exaggeration) making up stories by turning the words into characters and moving them around. It will be interesting to see if his play changes as he learns to recognize words.

3

On the topic of imagination, I've been listening to Anne of Green Gables while I work (I LOVE the down loadable audio book section of our library). It's made me realize just how little scope for the imagination I have allowed myself lately. So I'm vowing to bring some more imagination into my own life every day. I've especially missed all of the time I used to spend in nature; I need to find some special places where I can dream, if only occasionally.

4

I always felt that I should have been a redhead. Maybe not Anne Shirley red, but something brighter than brown. But lately I've become conflicted about using too many chemicals on my hair and body. So what's a girl to do? To dye or not to dye, that is the question.

5

I need to get some new garden pictures up. Last weekend we visited the farm garden and I ruthlessly chopped all of the growing tips off of my tomato plants so that the remaining fruit would ripen more quickly. I don't think I'll be getting that variety again, they were the vineyest things, with little fruit to show for it. I'm taking suggestions for a good, bushy heirloom sauce tomato for next year.

6

Vines seemed to be the story in the garden. Next year I SWEAR everything that vines along the ground is getting planted at the far end of the garden. After last year's great pumpkin takeover (which grew to more than double the size shown in this picture)



I swore that I'd keep my vines in check this year. Umm. Not so much. I told Gates the other day that I think if you stood there long enough you could actually see them grow. First there is the squash plant. See that area I'm standing in? I planted nothing there this year. My squash volunteered from last year and that entire area is covered with vines, and then some.

I also thought I'd be smart and plant a pie squash instead of a pumpkin under the mistaken delusion that a pie squash wouldn't vine as much. Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking either. See that tree I'm standing by? The squash attacked the tree. And by attacked, I don't mean grew up the trunk. I mean some little tendril grew high enough to grab a branch and after that it was all over for the poor tree. This is the stuff movies about aliens are made of.

So yeah, I'm going to have lots of pie squash to hand out to my friends this year. At least they're smaller than the pumpkins were.

7

Last, but not least, this morning as we were snuggling in bed before school a certain 8 year old who shall remain nameless looked at me, smiled and said "Mom, you look kind of like you're having a baby." I tried to explain to him why women do not consider this a compliment, but in his mind babies are good, therefore looking like you are having a baby must be good. Sigh. On that note, I'm going to go get friendly with my exercise videos.


For more great 7 Quick Takes Friday posts visit Jen at Conversion Diary.