Running the Numbers

Posted by Maralise | December 29, 2010 | 37 Comments

And the evening and the morning were the first day.

I ran 200 fewer miles in 2010 than in 2009. I read 25 fewer books. I spent a lot of time doing things I don’t enjoy like moving, volunteering in classrooms, baking (mostly) unsuccessful allergen-free breads and goodies, hosting parties and play-dates, and cleaning. I gave up lifelong dreams. I walked away from opportunities I thought I wanted. I had another miscarriage, another D&C. I continued to be terrible at things like Visiting Teaching (or any activity in which I have to use the phone), making deadlines, and mailing packages. I spent more time alone.

In 2009, I took intensive German language lessons and attended the University and worked part-time. This year? Nothing. When people ask what I do during the day, I have no answer. I usually sideline their question by responding (with sass!) that I am a “lady of leisure.” We laugh. They then ask a question about my husband’s career and our conversation moves forward. But I’m stuck in that moment just after the question leaves their lips when I realize (all kidding aside) that the answer to their question isn’t an answer at all, but just another series of questions.

During the week, I get the kids to school, walking them to their classrooms more for PR than anything else. Face-to-face contact with teachers and administrators is important when your children are both the “new kid” and the “problem kid”. I grocery shop daily. I do pilates, I run. I shower, do my hair, apply makeup. Twice a week, I spend a few hours in the kids’ classrooms. I clean for a couple hours of the day. I cook for a couple more. I clean up the mess from cooking for another hour or so. I watch Hulu (a major advantage of moving back to the States) while folding laundry. I oversee chores and homework. I love my husband, holding his face in my hands when we kiss goodbye in the morning and hello in the evening.

I’m the last person to say that being a matriarch and mother is and should be all about sacrifice (as if every woman blessed with a husband and children is somehow not only a mother and wife but a martyr) because I don’t believe that. I think motherhood, like charity, service, and love gives more than it takes, fills more than it drains; God’s math never being equal, the giver is miraculously always the receiver. Zakes Mda, a South African writer, has said, “Our elders say that an elephant does not find its own trunk heavy.”

There are times when I see my own fleshy form as something that hangs on my soul, inhibits my progress, wiggles and shakes as I try to run it off. AND there are times when my kids hedge me in, make me feel like I live a sub-human and cave-like existence, slave to their maniacal desires (we don’t call our oldest son ‘Fidel’ for nothing). But they’re my kids, my spouse, my burden, my joy, my trunk and although I carry them everywhere I go (even when I’m alone), they’re mine and I’m grateful; so often uplifted more than pulled down and loved (always) more than I deserve.

As 2010 comes to a close, I’m sad to leave it behind. In a strange twist of fate, I achieved less but became more. I don’t know why I insist on keeping track of the numbers, I’ve never been good at math anyway.

And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.

Category: Daily Special, House a Home, Slice of Life
Tags: adversity > burdens > charity > faith > family > matriarch > mormon women > motherhood > mothering > mothers > reading > relationships > running > sacrifice

Comments

37 Responses to “Running the Numbers”

Annie
December 29th, 2010 @ 8:05 am

Maralise, what a beautiful reflection on this year.
“I achieved less but became more.”
I love that. It’s true! This made me think of the times when tender, hard-earned growth and deepening happened under the radar, blessings defying and beyond measure.

Happy new year!
Heather O.
December 29th, 2010 @ 9:54 am

I would love to be more. Thanks for helping me think through how I can do that.
strawberry
December 29th, 2010 @ 10:09 am

What a beautiful outlook. Life is so difficult for me right now, and I wish I could just swallow a dose of “positive interpretation.” I’ll try. Thank you.
Rosalyn
December 29th, 2010 @ 10:21 am

I love this idea of God’s math–the idea that motherhood fills more than it drains. I’m not very good at slowing down, but your post has helped me think about the positive virtues of doing so. Thanks for such a lovely retrospective.
Adri
December 29th, 2010 @ 10:58 am

Well said, my girl. Well said.
Jean
December 29th, 2010 @ 11:13 am

This is beautiful. Fitting for me, as well, because 2010 brought me motherhood. I think I also achieved less, but became more.
Thank you for this post!
runnermom
December 29th, 2010 @ 12:04 pm

Your year sounds a lot like mine has been. I’m still trying to do the grateful and growing part, though. Thanks for writing and sharing your perspective. I’m still trying to adjust to life in our new home, accept the fact that babies are probably not in my future following several miscarriages, and be content being a mom at home. Maybe 2011 will be the year of gratitude and growth. Fingers crossed for that.
Leslie
December 29th, 2010 @ 12:12 pm

I loved everything about this post Mar. Love you
Melissa M.
December 29th, 2010 @ 12:25 pm

This was a lovely post, Mara. I, too, feel like this year was a year of achieving less and becoming more—a year of painful, but necessary, growth. I’m grateful for it, pain notwithstanding.

But I am hoping for a less turbulent year in 2011.
Stacey
December 29th, 2010 @ 12:53 pm

Mothering 3 unusual kids with their own sets of challenges has made me so much more than I would have made of myself without them. I have been forced to learn patience, understanding, and tolerance. I weigh a few pounds more than I’d like, haven’t worked on going back to school like I thought I would when all the kids were back in school, but I’m a little more accepting, a little more kind, and hopefully a bit nicer to people around me. All my baby steps eventually add up to something!
Maralise
December 29th, 2010 @ 2:01 pm

Annie–I wonder if almost all ‘hard-earned growth and deepening’ happens under the radar. I’ve never thought of that before. At the very least, the change of heart behind the more-public displays of trial or hardship seem to be private, intimate.

Heather–I hadn’t thought of that! I’d like to be more too. I’m going to clear my schedule for 2011 and work on that. *assuming zen pose*

Strawberry–I’m so rarely accused of being positive that it makes me happy to hear that you think this essay has that slant. I’m going to tell my hubby that. He might not believe it.

Rosalyn–the idea of God’s math was introduced to me by a friend (Trish) in Richmond when talking of tithing. I think of God’s math a lot when my circumstances say that something is impossible and my heart says that it’s not. Works like a charm.

Jean–Congratulations!

Runnermom–I’m so sorry to hear of your miscarriages and the heartache of your year. I find the prospect of my family potentially being finished much more difficult to accept because it’s my body that’s telling me and not my heart.

Melissa M.–even in writing about how the numbers don’t matter, I’m plotting a way to run more, read more, and accomplish more in 2011. Old habits die hard, but ‘less turbulent’ seems like a nice goal. Maybe I’ll just stick to that.

Stacey–And THIS is everything: “. . . but I’m a little more accepting, a little more kind, and hopefully a bit nicer to people around me.”
Julie
December 29th, 2010 @ 2:18 pm

Sweet post! I love it! Thank you.
VanDyne Wilson
December 29th, 2010 @ 4:27 pm

Oh Mara, how simply beautiful and beautifully simple………and yet complex. So sorry about your miscarriage:( Do you also feel that what makes you more also makes your mom more? I know as my posterity grows I feel more deeply about so many things that might have seemed trivial a few years ago. It’s that under the radar thing. Or that thing called “purpose in EVERYTHING.” Anyway, thanks for sharing your life and your heart. Love you big!
Maralise
December 29th, 2010 @ 5:19 pm

VanDyne–now wouldn’t that be something if one continues to receive the blessings of God’s math as one’s posterity increases. It seems logical to me that as we truly invest in and love one another (and we are certainly forced to do that with our children and grandchildren) that our capacity for empathy would also increase, and our hearts would continue to expand. I love that idea. And I also love that my mom would continue in knowledge and love as she watched me live my life. I can’t pay her back, but this makes me feel like I’m giving something, however small.
NightingaleTamar (Heather B)
December 29th, 2010 @ 6:01 pm

Thank you for summing up my year, also, so beautifully.
Linn
December 29th, 2010 @ 9:10 pm

This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read and I don’t say that lightly, Mara. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for writing it. I had a year like that, but I didn’t fully see it for what it was. Until now.

Love you sweet friend.
Selwyn aka Kellie
December 29th, 2010 @ 11:26 pm

I’ve done well and I’ve failed spectacularly, yet still somehow have ended up better than when I started. God’s math conquers all, after all.

Thanks for the thinking opportunity.
Emily M.
December 29th, 2010 @ 11:32 pm

Mara, I’m so sorry about the miscarriage. And I am so grateful for your wisdom here.
michelle
December 30th, 2010 @ 1:26 am

This was really beautiful, Mara.

And I can empathize with this in a big way: “I find the prospect of my family potentially being finished much more difficult to accept because it’s my body that’s telling me and not my heart.”

My heart goes out to you. Thank you for sharing a part of your heart here.
Andrea R.
December 30th, 2010 @ 12:53 pm

Loved this Mara. Love you.
Cheri
December 30th, 2010 @ 10:04 pm

Perfect. Thank you, Mara.
KLS
December 31st, 2010 @ 10:21 am

Can’t tell you how happy I am to see a post from you, in the first place. And to have it be something like this? You’re spoiling me, woman.
Sue
December 31st, 2010 @ 12:58 pm

Lovely and thoughtful post, and I hope 2011 brings you good things. VERY good things.

=)

PS. I have done less and grown less, I’m afraid, in 2010. But I rarely have two “resting” years in a row, so I’m looking forward to this new slate.
Katie
December 31st, 2010 @ 2:48 pm

This was beautiful, and I share your experience in so many ways. We also had a big move in 2010 and I sometimes still feel like I’m treading water. I wonder if my entire life consists of maintenance, instead of moving forward in any measurable way. Thanks for the reminder that there is movement in stillness, progress in treading…
Zina
December 31st, 2010 @ 4:12 pm

I don’t think I’ll ever have a year when I run fewer miles or read 25 fewer books than the previous (which is my way of saying I haven’t run any miles or read as many as 25 books in years and years).

I loved this post and related to it, though. It’s so hard to count the value of our days when we measure our worth so differently from how our Heavenly Father does, and it’s helpful to try to do our accounting differently.
Ray
January 1st, 2011 @ 11:14 am

This was beautiful and touching. I hope you don’t mind if I link to it in the future on my own blog.

“In a strange twist of fate, I achieved less but became more.”

If that can be engraven on my tombstone and be true, I will have died happy.
Jennie
January 2nd, 2011 @ 8:24 am

This is so lovely, Mara.
Sage
January 2nd, 2011 @ 10:10 am

I finally had a minute to read this! Thanks for such wisdom and testimony.

I love the idea of God’s math. And all your descriptions of motherhood’s chores brought my year back to me!
Sorry, too, to hear of your miscarriage.

God’s math never seems to be equivalent to our own, in any way, but somehow better. I’m planning for 2011 to be a year of loving more deliberately. Maybe that will help me become more of what counts.
Tiffany W.
January 2nd, 2011 @ 3:26 pm

I spent most of 2009 in bed because of weird illnesses and then a pregnancy. I did so much less of everything, including all the normal important things a mother does. And yet, I felt that Heavenly Father was pleased with what I had done: kept myself well, took care of my unborn baby, and did my best with family.

I’m still processing the lessons from that year. I am not anxious to return to another year such as it. Frankly, I think of that year in shudders and with feelings of failure. Ironically, while I knew Heavenly Father was pleased with me, I never quite felt pleased with myself.

But your post, Maralise, prompted me to think about it in different terms. I think I need to reconcile the disconnect between how I felt about my self and lack of accomplishments and how Heavenly Father felt about it. So thank you for prompting some pondering.

And I am so sorry for your miscarriage.
Michelle L.
January 2nd, 2011 @ 10:09 pm

Beautifully written; perfectly expressed. This is one of my favorite posts of the year, Mara.

I too, have had a hard year. I was talking to my sweet sister a few days ago and she wondered if she’d done anything but cry this year. But she did– oh she did.

Because it’s been a year of such negativity I’ve worried that not only have I done much less; I’ve become much less. But my worries were eased a bit on New Year’s Eve when my children told my brother about our trip to the beach–”It’s really hard to get mom mad,” they said, “but if you bury her in sand and start to tickle her feet she’ll get furious in a hurry.”

If they still think it’s hard to get me mad after the angriest year of my life then I haven’t completely failed.
TNA
January 2nd, 2011 @ 10:15 pm

I wish these comments had a like button! I loved this post. The idea of our worth not being linked to what we accomplish, but what we become in the journey really resonates with me. I wish that I could always believe it, especially when the items on my checklist aren’t checked off. Thank you, to all who write on Segullah. Your words enrich my life.
Kerri
January 3rd, 2011 @ 12:59 am

I am not yet ready to finish working the equation of 2010, in fear that the sum is so much less than I wish it to be. It was a hard year. A terribly hard year. And like you, I read less, ran less, achieved less than I did in 2009. Unlike you, I am not sorry to see 2011′s arrival. But I do believe that I may look back on the last year as one of the most impactful on my future, as one that changed me to the core. And somehow knowing this makes it hard for me to really look at the year in its entirety and hate it. I hate so much of what happened, but I know the Lord is shaping me through it.

That doesn’t mean I have to like it, though. Cuz I didn’t and I don’t.
Brooke
January 4th, 2011 @ 8:10 pm

oh, mara. love this. i feel like you’re in my brain and occupying my heart and have written it all down plain and simple and beautifully.

love to you. and your dictators.
Stephanie2
January 5th, 2011 @ 8:35 am

This was the year I completely went back to basics. I feed my kids, clothe my kids, make sure their homework and chores are done, read my scriptures, exercise, fulfill my calling, pay attention to my husband. That takes up all my time right now. To stress about what I cannot do right now makes me stressed and unhappy, so I am not “running the numbers” anymore, and I ended the year writing in my journal that I am happy again for the first time in SIX years. Yikes.
Stacey
January 6th, 2011 @ 4:24 pm

That was beautiful. It seems that we spend so much time trying to prove our worth with numbers of some form or another. When it comes down to it, it’s often the daily living that means the most.
Stephanie2
January 6th, 2011 @ 10:18 pm

Stacey, that was beautifully said.
Angela
January 13th, 2011 @ 1:48 pm

I am, as often, late to the party and thus much of what there is to be said has been. Suffice it to say that this is beautifully lived and written. Just lovely.