Nowhere Mid-America

My husband has seen the ocean from both coasts this week. He's that sort of guy. He talks to investment bankers, venture capitalists, professors, IT departments, CIOs, start-up reps., etc. He presents at conference after conference. 

Me? While he jets, I sit in Nowhere, Mid-America. Well, I don't exactly sit. I take care of the animals. I chauffeur my kids to their activities, change icky diapers on a child that I can't manage to "potty train," prepare and clean up from umpteen meals, preside as "Queen of the Perpetual Laundry Pile," etc. etc. (Actually, It's always in hampers or baskets, but you get my point.) 

While my husband dabbles his toes in the Pacific, I sort of tread water. My circle is small. Sometimes it's claustrophobia inducing. But at other times I think that I'm focusing on what is most important. Then travel, uninterrupted meals in restaurants (I won't even aspire to the fancy places he goes), and a long contact lists in my phone don't appeal to me anymore. 

It's sort of a chicken and the egg thing though. Do I want this life because it's what I have and what I know? Or do I have this life because it's what I want? Because I didn't set out to be here. And if you asked me 15 years ago what my life would be like today, I never would have guessed anything close to what it is. But I have little to complain about (unless I'm being selfish and needy.)

My four children have all been brushed and washed and tucked into bed after our evening prayers. (And I got hugs from them all on the way to their beds.) The baby goats now have full bellies, thanks to me, and are nestled together in a cosy corner in the barn. The dryer is tumbling the things that my oldest will need again tomorrow at sailing camp.

Yes, there's a sink full of dirty dishes waiting. Yes, there are baskets of clean laundry that need to be folded. But that's because I have food, I have clothes. With possession comes responsibility. So I should really be grateful for such jobs that remind me of my blessings. 

And as for Nowhere, Mid-America... I'm sitting on my screen porch linked up via 4G service. A mocking bird is running through his repertoire at the top of his little lungs. A white tailed doe is browsing in front of me in the hay. A couple of hummingbirds are having a noisy aerial dogfight. Some bullfrogs are playing call-and-answer down at the pond. The crickets are chirping and trilling. And somewhere in the distance, dogs are faintly barking. 

Whatever my life may be, it sure is wholesome. And I should be satisfied. But things like that empty bottle of sake that my husband left on the side table next to my chair in the screen porch, and the phone call earlier from the steps of St Patrick's Cathedral still niggle a little. They make me aware of my homeliness, my current lack of culture, my limited set of experiences.

I guess it is human nature to wonder "what if" and to want "bigger, better, different, more." So I will quiet my pride and be satisfied. I will thwart my thirst for leisure and pleasure. And I will bask in the many undeserved blessings bestowed upon little old me.

Besides, maybe what is really niggling me is simply that my Love is elsewhere while I am here. After all, his comment on Facebook today was, "I'd much rather be in Nowhere, Mid-America with you than anywhere else by myself!" And he's coming home in the wee hours of the morning, only a handful of hours from now. What more could I ask for?!