Adventures In Zero Oil

We have been running, running, running....wildly, panickedly...our lists fluttering from our back pockets while we stamp out fires and buzz in a labyrinth of manic circles. And then sometime this weekend we remembered to check our oil tank and ordered another round for delivery on Monday morning and then wondered aloud to each other, "Just exactly how serious is that ominous 0 where the needle is hovering?"

Heh. Heh. Heh. And again I say, heh.

Late last night, after dinner was over and the washing up in full swing we began to notice it was oddly chill in the house suddenly. And by the time we were ready for bed we were huddled in blankets in the living room, crammed as tightly together as possible for body heat and I had drunk two full mugs of tea, not bothering with the sugar or cream but just gulping quickly.

We set the space heater up in the boy's room, put an extra layer on the baby, unrolled another quilt for our bed and tucked in. And I swear that there was starting to be frost hovering in the air over our pillows as we switched out the light.

When you wake up in the morning and there is no heat in your house and it is January and you're having a cold snap with a foot of snow on the ground...you have to find a warm place so that the kids can flow from pajamas to clothing to breakfast in relative calm. I lit a fire in the fireplace, dressed kids in front of the bedroom space heater (sweaters, jeans, t-shirts, turtlenecks, sweatshirts, hats etc.) and then plopped the big boys in front of the crackly blaze with blankets while I strapped the baby to my back in a carrier and whipped up breakfast and another mug of tea.

Later as we all ate our breakfast together and we watched the coals settling and snapping as the logs burnt away I thought of my mother as a new bride, watching her dishes shatter from freezing suddenly in her new house without a furnace, or proper doors and walls, just an inefficient woodstove and a lot of hope. Made our pink fingertips and noses seem  quite bear-able. I like to think I would have made a good pioneer woman but truly, I am so kidding myself. I'm soft. I am so glad that the oil man came this afternoon and that right now,  the radiator next to me is kicking it out for all it's worth. I really like automatic heat.

Art Peek

So, have I ever told you all how very, very important I think it is for mommies to have alone time, time with good friends, time with people who inspire, time to create something of beauty, time away from their dear little ones. Of course, there's nothing so very particular to mommyhood that means a given woman or human being for that matter, needs these things except for the fact that motherhood somehow carries with it the suggestion of martyrdom. A good mommy is a doormat for her husband her children...she pushes her needs deep, deep down to her toes and pours herself out for those she loves. While on some level this does just happen, and on some level its even good and to be admired and suggested....on another level it is kind of sick and insidious. And I assert that mommies who are having these deep human needs for specific kinds of "time" in their lives are able to be better mommies for it.

As you all know, my own personal time at the moment is my art group that I'm painting with once a week. I cannot even tell you how helpful, wholesome, healing, and fabulously empowering this new thing has been for me. Some weeks I feel like the only truly worthwhile thing I got done was painting at my group. That I came away with my soul a few notches fuller and I know that there are countless Tuesdays now when I've left with more stamina, resources and bounce in my step as a mother to boot.

One of my artist friends, a fellow mommy who first invited be to be a part of the art group, recently quipped:

  "I am fortunate, there is no doubt.  I don't have to make money at art right now, yet I have to make art, I simply have to.  I make time to make art.  I think a widespread obsession with raising kids well is not such a bad thing.  However, to raise healthy children it's important NOT to obsess about their every moment; growing up for any person means learning that the universe does not revolve around oneself. I believe it's better for my kids to come along on my adventures than to BE my adventure.  I rather think my children benefit from knowing that I have a creative life that is nearly as much a priority as they are.  It is good for a child, or anyone really, to learn about delayed gratification!  That is why I don't feel guilty for saying, 'Love, I will get you more juice in ten more minutes, once I have gotten this bit just the way I want it.'"

Yes. Yes. Yes. That...is what I mean.

All that to say, find a way to feed your deepest you, even if (or maybe even especially if) you're a mommy. And if you're curious about my group...here's a tiny peek at today.