Monday, March 10, 2014

Judgey McJudgersons Part One: the Backstory

Judgey McJudgersons, Part One: The Backstory

Here's the thing about writing posts, I have some stories, so many to tell you, but you need to know a little more about me.  So here is the brief story of me and my purse on a very pretty Spring evening that I posted on FB a while back.  It's still relevant, I promise.  My purse, and it's contents have not changed very much, but onwards friends, here we go:

The Pinkberry Trial

I am miraculously sitting alone...eating a large frozen yogurt which has been rendered decidedly unhealthy by the sheer obnoxious amount of toppings on it--reminds me of my mother saying, "you don't order coffee, you order a warm dessert with a little coffee favoring thrown in" and trying to read a book.

My kids are with their dad and within about 10 minutes I'm looking around. First at the thump on my chair when perfect red headed child A kicks it on his way to his table accompanied by perfect red headed child B, in their matching Crewcuts ensembles and their mother who pointedly looks over at me and my faux leather Target bag which makes me look at her Prada one--don't ask me, no idea of the season--that was many, many generic pull-ups ago--and says extremely loudly (there were only 2 tables) "well boys isn't going to Church fun? We should always make a point to show everyone why we should all go to church."

I know; I don't get it either. Is being Indian equivalent of being the unschooled masses? Or is it the fabulous faux leather Target bag?

Anyway, I looked down at myself and decided to take momentary stock. At this moment I have whacked out hair, bad cuticles, am using an old napkin as a bookmark (don't tell the library, I'm unsure if its totally clean), wearing old keens that I did wear to Mass this morning you judgmental oddball, the watch that is always at least 6 minutes behind that John got me for a birthday back when we got each other stuff, my mom's wedding band, my own and that wonderful Target bag that just fits perfectly under my arm. I took stock of all of this as the Perfects left the table and went to wreak havoc elsewhere or give out advice to more accommodating minorities.

But now having finished the yogurt I wondered at myself. I used to be a marvel of organization and right now in my terrific Target bag there is:
· 2 crumpled dollars
· A wallet with very little in it but all those rewards cards you get that I can't figure out the apps for on my new smartphone
· A coupon for a free earl of sandwich for my birthday
· The return slip for a shirt
· A coupon for a free 3d mammogram
· A publix receipt (I bought an iced donut, grape tomatoes and diced red onions--you know you wanted to know, right?)
· Little buddy wipes
· $5 coupon for non drowsy Claritin
· A pull-up
· Wipes for said bum that wears the pull-up
· A gold dollar coin I promised Joe I would keep safe for him
· Notes and a pen (not a bad pen either) from a Mops meeting a few months ago
· Agenda from Parent University where I scribbled all sorts of mean, probing questions about the change to the common core curriculum. 
· More wipes
· Daffy Duck tissues
· A vitamin...I think
· A hair appt reminder card, guess I blew that one
· 30 percent off an item at banana republic so sad I have nowhere to wear those clothes--did I keep the card in the hopes that I would somehow?
· Keys! Well at least there's that.

Where was I going with this...right the point is that I'm sitting ALONE and eating and reading. All good--hope your Sunday is too.

The Update

The thing is, I'm not much different today.  It's Sunday, and I haven't had the privilege of sitting and eating any kind of confection alone.  Instead me and my fabulous Target bag went with my family to scope out a new spot called Tarpon Springs.  It's the sponge capital of the world.  

the boys holding interesting examples

And it has history and interesting people, and ah-maz-ing Greek food.  But the purse's current contents?:
  • coconut fudge (it's in a separate bag, don't worry)
  • an expired Gymboree coupon
  • equally fabulous $10 Oscar De La Renta sunglasses that I got from Marshall's
  • notes for a Bible study I'm leading from the Good Morning Girls
  • Orbitz gum that the boys have invaded.  (it's not even bubble flavored so I, well, it really makes no sense.)
  • Target coupon for toll house morsels.  Remember the cookie post?
  • I've upgraded to Puffs purse tissues.  (they have lotion, it's awesome.)
  • A buzz lightyear camera, no I don't know why.
  • A lint roller--mind boggling, I never care enough about lint and we have no dog.
  • An organizational handout from my MOPS meeting.  (That's embarrassing to admit, for sure.)
  • A pen and vicodin (kidney stone attacks come at surprising times.  no I don't drive on it.)
  • two coupons for a new lunchable called kabobbles because this company is set out to ruin all my good intentions about nutrition and also a hot pink reminder NEVER to bring the boys to the grocery store again!
  • A book that I'm reading called The Book Thief, I belong to two wonderful book groups and this one's for the one from home. 
The point of all of this is that we're doing the best we can.  All of us.  All the time.  And I've made peace with it despite the Judgey McJudgersons out there.  But there was a time when I wasn't so certain, and it felt so tired to be aware and awake that I wasn't something.  It struck at key moments, this horrible feeling: when I was in a new group, when I first married, when I was a new mother.  Moments when my surety of self and my placement in the world was at its cusp of most vulnerable.  

That's when the perfects strike.  And that's when the judging begins, and that's when the doubt about the God who made you and loves you does not sound out loudly and you worry and fret over what ultimately does not matter.  The mean is out there, and they are sad and broken and trouble and need your benevolence.  But we're not here to address the mean--that can be saved.  It's you.  And the fact that you are fine.  All the time.  Just as you are.  I'm certain of it, just as I'm certain that my keen sandals must've bugged the daylights out of the Perfect, the edge end of it is flapping away--they weren't meant for chasing after 3 little boys and their pirate battles or light saber duels--and I.don'  

So here's my bag, and here's my stuff.  

It's awesome, right?

Feel good tonight.  Forgive someone.  Read something that makes you feel.  Say something you've been tugging at for awhile.  I'll talk to you soon, cheers and sweet dreams.


Julianne said...

Love this, Sara!

sara said...

Thank you Julianne!

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