whole

it's freezing outside- ok, well for atlanta.  i'm sitting beside my african bracelets dreaming of warmer weather. mike leaves tomorrow for uganda and the house will finally be for sale. but it's been a crazy week trying to get everything done before he goes.  he is amazing- truly.  he can do so many things, and so many things well- that i sort of stand in awe.  he preps well, paints well, does carpentry well, cleans well, and he can even do plumbing. he can move large pieces of furniture by himself- like queen mattresses and desks.  he can clean up a yard in no time, fix broken furniture, and replace ceilings.  he has tools and a good mind and really big hands and patience.  the only thing i have in that group is maybe a good mind. which i discovered today, sometimes isn't enough.

yesterday i decided to do some yard work, just some raking and planting.  oh my word- i haven't raked in years- and it's hard- like work-out level hard (which i also haven't done in years). so i'm raking in my vest in the afternoon feeling like my mom in the '70s- like i'm the person with the push mower- the person using the antiquated method of yard clean up- like i'm old school. it was hard, and i kept thinking of the girl in that book 'the dirty life' and how she's all about being out on the farm doing hard manual labor- and not complaining- so i stuck with it, until the realtor came over and i quickly abandoned my leaf piles.  but i did feel connected to the earth- to my body and the muscles in there and their purpose.  i think if we all raked instead of using leaf blowers we'd all be buff and healthy.  i plan on doing this more often.

today i set out to chop some things off the todo list and was quickly annoyed and then humbled, probably because i insisted on homeschooling while doing the work.  this entailed zoe locating herself where ever the work was.  so first i painted the breakfast area while trying to "teach" zoe multiplication partial products.  that was a challenge- especially because we'd never done partial products before and it requires multiple steps and lining things up correctly.  i really enjoyed the painting part.  the math got done- but not with out our classic conversation- which i'm happy to report wasn't a meltdown- but maybe not just a conversation either.  it was the 'why did you help me' one.  the good news is that the painting distracted me enough to not get really angry with her- and my hands were busy so i couldn't throttle her, so i just painted and she regrouped and we talked about how she wanted to stop being so stubborn and accept help.  which is the first step- acknowledging you have a problem and then wanting to change.  she's moved from pre-contemplation to contemplation- maybe even to preparation. (that's  behavior change language).  and that is great.  it will take practice.

then i painted the big banister post- and i'm thinking "maybe i should do manual labor- it's so satisfying" and i got into this zen-like place of following the lines of the wood and cutting the edges.   next, i went to 'touch up'  zoe's room, but the paint can wouldn't open.  i tried for about 20 minutes.  i pried and pried slowly, around the entire can- chanting 'slow and steady wins the race' -not sure what race i was referring to- but confident that eventually, the can would lose. it didn't. how can i not be strong enough open a paint can?  so irritating!

i gave up, and decided to go down to the back porch and take down the mike-built monkey bars.  i knew this would require an electric drill, which i eventually found, and i went out into the back- feeling really cool- because tools kind of are cool and so are the people who use them- which apparently isn't me.  i unscrewed half of them but the others wouldn't budge.  i felt like such a girl.  stuck.  dependent.  and it made me so annoyed.  i called my brother to make sure i wasn't doing something dumb- like using the wrong drill bit- and told him how i felt.
"but you are a girl!" he said.  "you shouldn't feel badly that you can't do the same things as mike- he's a lot bigger and stronger than you."


but i did feel bad. i want to accomplish whatever i put my mind to.  i want to not be hindered by my limitations. i wonder if that's how zoe feels - hindered by her limitations. so frustrated by her inability to do something that she can see other people do. other people her age- or even younger- like her brothers.  that would do me in.  and maybe after years of this- it would translate into the 'why did you help me?' bit.  the summary of oneself as dependent on so many levels, would force the tangible frustration at getting help with things that you actually can do.  it's like an outlet for years of that 'stuck' feeling.  i guess i should give her a break- and me a break.

in grammar, zoe and i were reviewing homophones: words that sound the same but are spelled differently and can have different meanings. like toe and tow. these are very confusing for zoe.  she can have a hard time telling which one goes where.  she's very literal- and so this is extra tricky.  she'll often ask for clarification.  "you mean which one- but not like a scary witch, right?"

i was thinking about the homophones 'hole' and 'whole' and how weird it is that they sound the same but mean not just something different, but the opposite of each other.  one word implies something missing, or an empty space, the other, completeness. separated by 'w'.  one letter separates void and totality. we think of those ideas as ends of a spectrum- as extremes.  i tend to live in that extreme world- to flock to the ends of things- in an overly dramatic kind of way.  joy, pain. black,white. all, nothing. empty, complete.  mike is better at living in the middle- of holding hands with the holes and the wholeness in his life.  with his big hands and his patience he is able to do so much- slow and steady he goes.  i'm like a wiry firecracker - sitting in the box- then once lit- i can do amazing things in the sky or explode in your face and you'll lose an eye.

but maybe it's easier than i think. maybe it is just one letter- and not a universe between hole and whole. slowly filling in the holes leads to wholeness. but accepting the holes leads to a different kind of wholeness. for zoe, bit by bit accepting some help- overcomes the stubbornness.  for me, accepting the hole-y-ness of my life will get me to 'complete'.  they're not that far off- they are related- by more than their sound.

i went back upstairs to face the paint can while zoe read 'charlie and the chocolate factory' out loud.  i had help- a new idea from my brother on how to open it.  slow and steady- i pried at it again.  my hands aren't that strong, but i used a longer tool- more leverage. a few minutes later the lid yielded.  her light pink walls look beautiful.