The Messiness of Gratitude

Picture this scene: one woman walks along a street, a plate of food in one hand, a child on one hip, two or three more running about ahead of her. She rings a door, and an harried woman of a similar age opens it, with a similar number of children noisily making their presence known behind her. 

*

The first woman has spent her morning wrangling her children whilst trying to cook two meals. Maybe she succeeded, but lost her temper so many times she is basically unable to bear another word from her children. Maybe she succeeded by putting her children in front of screens, and knows she is about the pay for it in kind when she gets home, because the children will be post-screen hellions. Maybe she failed to make her own lunch, and knows that when she gets home after this errand, she will have to face screaming, hangry, children and throw not-particularly-healthy-definitely-not-made-from-scratch food in their general direction and hope that the storm will abate.

*

The second woman has spent all morning wrangling her own children whilst feeling exhausted. Maybe the children were up taking turns being sick all night long. Maybe she has a newborn and can barely stand up. Maybe she has depression, and getting out of bed in the morning was a task so wildly beyond her strength that she has not. Or she has, but could do nothing else and now she is dishevelled, stained and harried, and she knows it as she opens the door. 

How is the exchange going to go? we actually all know it already.

Woman 1: Hi! How are you feeling? I made you some lasagna, I hope it's ok.

Woman 2: Oh, wow! Thank you so much! How DO you manage to do all of this? That is just too kind!

Woman 1: Not at all, don't worry, it was absolutely no bother! I had x/y/z reason which made it totally manageable!

Maybe the second woman will close the door and feel inadequate, maybe even resent the first woman. She will appoint herself a failure, and the kind gesture will end up being so poisonous to her self-esteem that it might as well not have happened.

Maybe the second woman will leave feeling slightly short-changed. Maybe she will try and reason that really, she shouldn't be doing these things for gratitude. Maybe she will congratulate herself on her charity and forbearance, but somehow it will feel hollow. And she will definitely not consider how terrible she made that other woman feel by pretending like taking on extra duties is absolutely no bother, since she has everything so much under control so much of the time.

Recently I have been reflecting on such scenes, on how they might repeat themselves with swapped roles on another aspect of life, or even the same one, a few months later or prior. There is a lot that can (and is!) said about our various charisms, and how they complement each other. How we shouldn't feel guilty when another appears more successful in certain aspects of life. All good things, and needing to be said.

But I wonder whether there isn't something more broadly amiss in such scenes, beyond the problems of self-esteem. We, the two women in this exchange, are hiding from each other. Maybe we are even hiding behind virtuous-sounding excuses - "I am being so humble by recognising her mastery", "I am actually avoiding putting extra-guilt on her shoulders by glossing over my own efforts" - We must be doing something right, right? 

Except no.

What we are doing is hiding. Hiding from the terrible, terrifying truth of what is truly at work in such scenes. What we do not, ever, want to admit, is that behind every such act of service given and received, there is an "I love you". And love is messy, vulnerable and binding. How can we possibly brook such a thing? Love isn't nice, and tidy. Love is not fair. Love often means  being in debt with each other. Depending on each other.

We don't really know how to give and receive love between friends anymore, I think. We certainly don't know how to give and receive it from acquaintances. From that pesky "neighbour" of Jesus'. That guy who just happens to be nearby, rather than one we have chosen and cultivated so that we feel good in his presence.

We can't possibly expose ourselves that way. We can't be seen to give love when we render a service, one that requires sacrifice. We can't possible focus on receiving love by being simply grateful, or seeing the loving act for what it is. No. It's much safer to pretend like it was no bother. Not a service. Not an act of love. 

Just you know, a thing that doesn't matter.

It's not like we're expected to just go about and just GIVE LOVE to all and sundry. That's just preposterous.

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do as I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last so the the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

John 15: 13-17

Just Do That One Thing

"I doing push-ups Maman!"

For a while now, I have been meaning to write about resolutions, and how to keep them and all the things that can help you do just that.

Funnily enough, this is something that I would not have pictured myself doing. At. All. just a couple of years ago. 

I tell a lie. 

I did not manage to follow through on a single resolution in my entire life until January 2017. I had even created a whole rationalisation about it, involving excuses about how I am not naturally self-disciplined and bla, bla, bla. And yet, somehow, in 2017 I did it. Almost effortlessly. I somehow became a self-discipline aficionada, a habit evangelist, the worst person to whom you could ever tell you mean to pick up a new habit/resolution (unless you are ready to be drowned in advice, pointers and bullet-pointed action plans - if that is the case, then please, do come my way! My friends will thank you for the respite).

So anyway. What turned me into a resolution bully, I hear a chorus of sweet voices wondering?

I'm so glad you asked.

There were books, there were tick charts, considering motivation, pegging new habits to old ones, there were many things. And they all helped, and I am happy to detail them (in fact, I probably will - consider yourself warned - because this is my blog, and I think the whole thing is fascinating). But a couple of weeks back, it suddenly clicked. I suddenly realised what had actually made the change. 

The Heroic Minute. (Scroll down, it's number 206 - I mean, don't scroll down, read, Escriva is the best, but you know, not all of it is directly relevant to this post.)

The resolution I took in January 2017 was to get up at 6am every morning,and to get up straight away. And now, looking back, I can trace all my subsequent successful habit-creation to that one decision. 

I can see why that would be the case on a practical level: I gave myself more time by doing it, and also made it very tangible that I could have more time if I needed (which I did, I now get up at 5:30am). Getting up before the children also did wonders to my attitude towards them, since I wake myself up to do things I want to do, rather than being dragged out of bed (figuratively) kicking and screaming (also figuratively - most of the time) by the noise of my waking children. The still-sleeping children are also a huge help by acting like a kind of time bomb, which makes it very relevant that I DO get up RIGHT NOW because every minute counts. All these obvious built-in motivational factors definitely helped me keep the resolution, and I don't doubt that having succeeded once, I felt empowered to take on more. 

All this is true.

But I think the true reason behind why this was such an effective habit to pick up is this: Escriva describes it as starting the day with a victory over yourself which then sets the right tone for the rest of your waking hours. I personally prefer to think of it as starting the day by punching Satan in the face - and who wouldn't want to do that?
Feel free to ignore my slightly violent tendencies - but in any case try it! Since I'm backed by a saint on this one, I feel confident this will have tremendous impact on your life, so go set a time and tomorrow, get up, straight away. Start your day mastering yourself, I guarantee you won't regret it.

A Day in The Life

So, after I published the post on what is saving my life with my mini-posse of children, I figured it would be fun to see what it looks like in practice. So I spent my Saturday making voice memos of what we were doing when, and this is the result.

Unsurprisingly with such posts, it turned out to be not quite a normal day - Simon was working late (that I knew in advance) plus a weird snow-blizzard fell on us, making going outside all but impossible (and as you'll see, we tried). There was also not much socialising involved (see: snow-blizzard) which was also not entirely typical (although we don't meet up with people every single day either). I was also planning on having a mini lie-in until 6am since it was going to be such a long day, but you'll see how that went.

5:50am : Jude knocks on our door. We remind him his clock is not yellow yet. I go lie with him to help him wait, we tell stories.

6am: Our alarms go, the Gro-Clock turns yellow, Jude springs out of bed. Simon takes Jude and Gabriel down to breakfast whilst I get dressed then pick up Mathilde from her cot and bring her down.

6:20am: Having given M to S, I go into the front room to read the Bible, pray about the day to come and read some Faber and Mazlish.

6:45am: G pops in for a cuddle, I go get my coffee then back to the front room.

7am: I say the Angelus.

7:13: S calls for me to come and help put the boys in their waterproof gear as they want to go out, but it’s extremely windy out.

7:21: The boys are out so I sit down to feed M (she’s already had Weetabix while she waited).

7:27: The boys come back in, too cold. They *mostly* undress themselves and put the waterproof gear where it belongs, with a few pointers.

7:31: Jude asks me to read him Paddington and settles next to M and I. Gabriel immediately picks the other Paddington book and demand I read him that one.

7:38: S leaves for the hospital (we say goodbye then carry on reading).

7:48: I set G up with some Duplo upstairs so I can start teaching Jude. M plays happily on the floor.

Happy camper!

7:49: I start teaching Jude (recitation, review of maths,- adding and subtracting-, practise of simple phonics, practise recognising the number words in both languages, practise writing out a few words from sounding them)

8:15: G comes down to watch and doesn’t clamour too constantly for attention.

Maman, fais, l'école-a-la-maison, GAB'IEL!

8:26 : J asks to do workbooks as a treat (strange boy), I agree. M is still pretty happy with her toys.

8:37: G is getting very antsy and starts climbing into M’s highchair. M is getting upset. Quick check for poo, then off to her morning nap.

8:44 : I pick up the mail on my way back down from putting M in her cot.

8:46: Jude is still pretty happy with his workbooks, so I explain the next task and sneak upstairs to brush my teeth, bringing G with me.

8:49: G tries to use S’s toothbrush, I take it off him and take him back downstairs. More workbook work with J.

8:59: I tell Jude he has to go and play now, no more workbooks. He is pretty upset about it but rallies round.

9:04: I start to tidy up the school stuff. Go upstairs to check what the commotion is about.

9:06: Back downstairs for more tidying

9:10: Another arbitration needed upstairs

9:13: I sweep up the ridiculous amount of mud the boys’ 6 minutes outside produced.

9:16: Loud bang, back upstairs – the boys are happy but they have upturned the travel cot. I make them put it to rights.

9:19: Back downstairs, with the boys this time who have asked to go outside. Get them in their waterproof gear and out. Jude checks whether it is the season for blackberries yet (no). He points out they eat blackberries in Peter Rabbit (they do). He confirms with me that he will need to be hot and not wear a coat for it to be summer and for the blackberries to come out.

Gabriel is the first ready, immediately starts using chalk on the windows so he is brought back inside to do 30 seconds in the corner, Jude goes out and G joins shortly after.

9:30: I start the prep for lunch (grating cheese and mixing it with tuna, buttering 5 sandwiches then spreading the mixture on top – they will only need to be grilled before lunch)

J complains the wind is throwing snowflakes into his eyes. They come back in. Waterproofs off. Less mud this time though.

J sees me making food so starts asking for food immediately. I remind him he will have to wait until lunchtime.

I get the Play-do out on the breakfast counter (over tiles rather than the carpet) so that I can finish prepping lunch.

Constant requests to help with the Play-Do (mostly to take it out of the tub for G, who puts it straight back in – a bit wearing as I have to wash my hands continuously since I am prepping food).

9:50: Lunch is all prepped, and I do the dishes.

9:57: I concentrate on helping the boys with their play-do creations – snowmen mostly (but soon start refusing requests)

10:01: I get the recipe out for the St Patrick cake we are going to make and start measuring out the ingredients.

Many interruptions again for Pay-Do emergencies.

We tidy away the Play-Do and the chairs. I promise them a mini-marshmallow after I cut their Play-Do incrusted nails (J asks for “lots” – I insist I do mean one).

Cut the nails. They claim it is agony worthy of more marshmallows. I hold firm.

10:39: I suggest we read. The boys gather round me. M wakes up as soon as the first one is finished. We go pick her up.

10:41: M is delighted to see us.

10:44: The boys climb on the front window sills to have a good look at the snow falling.

10:47: We resume reading books, with M on my lap as well this time.

11:06: I warm up the grill for the toasties, the boys get their chairs to the breakfast counter to make the cake (they are not entirely fooled by my ploy, and still ask a lot about when lunch will be and cry).

11:36: The cake is made, the bowl is licked, M’s soup is reheated but whining is really fraying my nerves as they are all doing it at once.

11:41: We say grace and they start eating. We discuss whether their friend Olive will be able to use her sledge (she showed it off to the boys yesterday and they were very impressed). They come to the conclusion that is unlikely as the snow is not sticking. J points out we don’t have a sledge. I confirm.

They put their crockery away, then G and J come upstairs with me for Temps Calme (Quiet Time) and nap. I remind J what the penalty is for coming downstairs before the end of TC.

12:15: J starts his Temps Calme, G is in bed waiting for his milk and M is playing on the floor. I start tidying and wiping counters.

12:20: Cake in the oven, I put away the clean dishes from earlier. I warm up some milk and go give it to G.

12:27: Back downstairs for sweeping the kitchen, wiping counters and doing the dishes.

12:37: Do the dishes listening to a podcast.

12:53: S calls, we have a little chat about our days.

13:15: M is getting grouchy so I put her down for her nap. J sees me and starts asking for TC to be over (no chance).

13:28: J calls for me to come and see the snowstorm. I duly admire and remind him he is to stay in his room. I put my workout gear on.

13:32: I start doing Pilates. J comes to the stairs several times and has to be reminded of penalties, and eventually loses one treat.

13:50 : Pilates finished, I do my piano practice.

13:56: J tries to come down again so I stop practicing and tell him off.

I set up the printer in the front room and print a St Patrick and a reward chart for J to help stay in his room.

14:15: J bounds downstairs (the clock is yellow) and helps me put St Patrick and the chart onto card.

14:28: Start homeschool (mostly reviewing the morning work).

14:55: J wants to keep colouring (some was involved in the fine motor exercises I did with him) so we do this together for a few minutes.

15:03: I go to get G up. He has clearly been awake for a little while but is quite happy and content.

15:09: Saint Patrick goes on the cake and J and G start arranging the jelly snakes all around him (they are only allowed to eat the broken ones – or any they get their paws on in G’s case)

15:13 : they sit down to eat a slice of the snakey cake, G pretend-feeds it to Petite Musique.

15:20: J is going crazy so he sent out to do 5 laps of the garden (in the snow). He asks for G to come with him but I say no (don’t fancy another waterproof-charade).

15:36: Both boys wanted to go back out, I only put wellies and coats on them as it is bitterly cold and I fully expect them to be back in within a couple of minutes.

The boys are surprisingly happy in the cold, so I risk sitting down to browse.

15:40 : The boys come back in asking for hats, gloves and scarves.

15:42: they are back out, I sit back down. I instinctively look for Instagram but I gave it up for Lent, so start reading blogposts.

“Maman, fais des snow-man, s-il-te-plait!” (no snow sticking to the ground yet, might be tricky).

15:53: The wind picks up again, the boys huddle to the door and clamour to come back in.

15:57: We go back upstairs to play with Duplo.

16:02: M wakes up, I take her to the bathroom with me so that I can have my shower.

16:21: I hear screams, but the shower was good. I gear myself up for the potential state of the boys’ room when I come out of the bathroom.

16:24: Miraculously, the boys haven’t done anything destructive.

16:36: I go downstairs to change M’s nappy and ignore more screams.

16:39: We all come downstairs to read books. G demonstrates how he can carry Lala on his shoulders (J did it with his Winnie the other day and G took a fancy to it)

17:00: I give M a bottle of milk and take the boys back upstairs to supervise tidying their bedroom.

17:16: Back down to read more books.

17:19: M is grouchy so I put her in her highchair with a breadstick. She immediately cheers up. More books read.

I get everyone to eventually sit on their chairs, I heat up the leftover soup from yesterday and put croutons in for the boys. Much crying happens as waiting for food when it is so nearly there is obviously the worst.

17:39: The children start eating.

17:50: G starts prancing about a getting into cupboards, declaring he doesn’t want to finish his soup but just go to bed (fine by me).

17:55: Quick call from S to say goodnight to the kids.

17:59: The littles and I go upstairs to start baths whilst J finishes his cake (he finished his soup, so he got dessert).

18:11: M is out of the bath and the boys are in, I go downstairs to get nappies, milk for G and the bedtime story.

18:20: M is in pjs, I go into the bathroom where the boys are having a whale of a time “making bridges” (balancing on both edges of the bath, their bodies being “the bridges”). I take them out.

I put pjs on G, help J with his, then we read a book and say prayers.

J wants me to come in his bed to tell him more stories like this morning. Nope. Sorry buddy, Maman's done with life now.

18:39: Boys in bed – I feed M in our bedroom before putting her in with J.

18:50: All the chickens are in bed – now for tidying the house.

19:13: Everything is picked up and wiped, I have dinner whilst reading Courrier International.

19:48: Start hoovering and dishes with audiobook on (yes, no hard stops apply when I am on my own, especially when S is on long shifts the day after as well).

20:13: All done, so I sit down in the front room with the computer to do the next delivery of groceries.

20:31: Grocery order finished, I write up my Day-In-The-Life.

21:46: Text from Simon who is not sure how he is going to get home (he cycled to the hospital – pre-blizzard)

22:30: Bed.

Simon ended up not making it home until midnight, cold, ill and pretty exhausted, but that doesn't technically count as the same day, so we'll leave it here.

So here you have! All the points for making it to the end!