Tag: mess

Rubik’s Cube

Is life like a Rubik’s Cube?

August 15, 2020

Rubik’s Cube

Jillian’s friend gave her a Rubik’s Cube to solve. After a full day off and on of spending probably two or three hours attempting it, Jillian gave it to Jaquline and said, “this puzzle is too complicated!”

Jaquline has been trying her hand at it since. She’s one of those kids who stick to the problem until it gets solved so I’m sure eventually she will figure it out. On the way to work this morning Christina and I hear, “oh really!” and a wail.

“What?” we both ask.

“I was sooooo close!” and she passes the cube to Christina in the front seat with one side one square from being all one color. Christina, who has solved a few Rubik’s Cubes in her time, suggests, “start with the corners and try to match the colors two blocks at a time.”

Another wail a few seconds later and the furious almost silent swish, tap, tap, swish of the plastic blocks being moved around. Another wail. Swish, tap, tap, tap… “Yes!” Tap, tap, swish, swish. Dramatic groan, “this is too complicated.”

Encouragement from the front seat, “you can get it,” and “keep trying!”

“Roll On” by Alabama comes through my head.

Life sometimes seems like a Rubik’s Cube.

You get everything lined up the way you think it should be and turn the corner to discover… bam! It isn’t lined up! Fix that problem and solve that issue, turn another corner and nothing looks in order. Changes happen. I think of watching a younger friend when I was younger. He could solve the cube in whatever mess it was within what appeared to be a few twists.

All of us in life have been given Rubik’s Cubes aka “Life” to solve and various levels of frustration mount as we try to solve the puzzle by ourselves. Sometimes everything looks like it is lining up, but we turn a corner and look at a mess. Sometimes we created it, sometimes we didn’t have any control over it, sometimes it was messed up by someone we love or trusted. It isn’t lining up the way we wanted.

The first normal reaction is irritation and frustration – that stage where we try to fix it ourselves by pulling us up by our own bootstraps. In my experience those bootstraps generally tangle us up instead of help us regain our footing. I imagine we are pulling our footing right out from under ourselves – funny, right?

Or we could play the blame game – doesn’t solve anything and only makes us feel bad and alienate us from whomever we consider “the problem.”

Or we could hand our Rubik’s Cube of life to God and let Him direct our puzzle. This is like watching a master puzzle solver. Swish. tap. tap. swish. That looks worse… Tap. tap. swish. swish. Wow. How is that possible? Now all sides are each a solid color.

It looks like magic in the master’s hands.

Next time I feel like wailing because something just isn’t lining up, I hope I remember that image of the Rubik’s Cube in a master puzzle solver’s hands and think of how my life is like a Rubik’s Cube and I need to hand it to God and let Him solve my crazy mess – lead me the way He wants my life to go and then I can see the beauty of order only He can see in my chaos.

Crazy writer’s brain thoughts, I know, but hopefully it makes you smile.

Thank you for reading!

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Wimpy Atlas

Ever feel like everything in the world is raining down on your shoulders and you can’t keep anything up? That was today…

December 20, 2018

Wimpy Atlas

Am I the only one who feels like Atlas with wimpy shoulders sometimes?

Yesterday was a good example:

I got up at 5:30am to work, the guy cancels as I’m just on the road.  Bummer.

Get back home, waste of a half-hour prep and 20 minutes gas and time, but I try to stay positive.  My breathing flared up; can’t lay down to go back to sleep.  Grrrrr… hot tea and honey while I work on my character cards for the 6th in The Devonians – 26 characters in this one because it is set during a community planting season.

I write a program for translating ages – this will make future work easier.   I had my tea.  I hoped I would avoid having to take the allergy pill (discovered a natural antihistamine as I’m allergic to both Benadryl and the emergency inhaler I was supposed to be taking 4 times a day, but I still prefer not to take anything).   I pick up the second ride.  I’ve now made $20.

I chose not to dwell on sad things pinging around the back of my brain.

But when I got home about 11, I was starved.  I made my Shakeology because Louis wasn’t hungry (the kids had already eaten, and I wasn’t going to make a whole breakfast just for me).  Louis took the next call so I could finish eating.  I gathered all my stuff into neat little piles so I could use my tools to guide my story.  Christina needed help on an Algebra problem so I set my Shakeology cup down.

But… (that word NOT in the positive this time!)

As I finished with Christina’s problem *BAM* I turned and knocked the full Shakeology cup over ($3.50 meal – I hate waste)!   *SPLASH* the broken blinds, the window, the lamp, the wall, EVERY ONE of my 26 cards, my hand-written “cheat sheet” I’d created almost a year ago for the Devonians families, and the floor are covered in goo.  Imagine slightly soupy pudding – that’s the consistency of Shakeology + coffee.

Immediately, as quickly as the drops of fluid, everything negative that I was trying to hold back rained down on my brain.

The evening before, Mom got Daddy’s ashes… all that’s left of his body is in two boxes on her table.

Didn’t get to stop by Mom’s on the way home (*thoughts* you are a horrible daughter.)

Didn’t get to snuggle on the couch with Lucas because I was cleaning while he fell asleep (horrible mom.)

Didn’t get to fix my pie or anything to take to the party (horrible guest.)

I had to drive in the morning but only had two calls & the would-be big one canceled (horrible provider.)

Lucas wanted me to play trains… I was busy teaching (again, you never play with him!)

…and on and on and on… my brain just rained down things I wished I could have done differently, things I wanted to do but hadn’t, and things I should have done.

I felt like the world was falling on my shoulders and squishing me flat.

Now I was hungry, it was noon, and the very next call was “make some rice for lunch” because we had one pound of beef in the freezer and “stir-fry would be good.”  All I wanted was to type my frustrations out and make another Shakeology to actually eat.  I wanted to get to my vitamin shake before I went to work at 2. (I was leaving early to stop by my mom’s today!)

I read somewhere that a mother is the Chief Mood Officer in her home.  When I start getting lost in emotion, I remind myself of that.  I turned on Christmas music, started cleaning so I could start rice, and prayed I’d be able to pull my own mood up (and keep the house from growing dark).  My siblings’ party is tomorrow.  I can choose to shift my focus on the positive.  Hopefully it works!

*By the way* I didn’t get my shake until I was on the way to work, my mom wasn’t home when I got to her house, and on… BUT I was working playroom so had brought my Devonians folder and was able to use the 40 “lost” minutes to recreate some of the destroyed cards.  I forced myself to focus on the positive again… this week has been a constant challenge for me.  God.  God is totally in control. (I just need to lean on Him – His shoulders are not weak.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Baby Mode

June 20, 2017

Baby Mode

Babies have several levels; there is no-sleep level, walker level, mobile level, and want-to-be independent level.  Then they graduate into toddler level and you’re off to the races.  Really, off to the races begins with baby’s birth.  When you hear Momma yell: “It’s time!” the race is well underway.  There are endless modes baby can choose from as well.

Random strangers say “Oh, your baby is so sweet!” but as soon as they turn the corner “Angelic Mode” shifts into “Cranky Mode with supersize red food dye on top.”

My personal favorite is “Grandma Mode” – this is characterized by sweet, innocent faces and nuzzling into lots of adoring hugs and kisses.  It makes everyone go “Awww how sweet!” then it’s time to go.  “Tell Grandma bye bye,” – cutest little wave and shy away ever!  But as soon as you drive off, “leaving fun mode” comes on and it’s ferociously scream “I want Grandma!” at the top of his lungs.  (This is related to “Auntie Mode,” “Bestest Uncle Mode,” and “Cousin Mode”)

“Snuggle Mode” is nice.  This always turns on when mom, dad, or big sister has something vital to do (like make food, do schoolwork, or remove the insect that is causing the dog to break the sound barrier).  Baby enters snuggle mode and the world stops until he is really asleep.  Don’t ever try to lay him down while in “Half-Sleep Mode” (this is where your stemware shatters with the ear-piercing squeal announcing that he had not received enough snuggle time)

“Goofy Mode” is the most wonderful of baby modes – and this mode continues into teenagerhood.  This is when anything and everything from “Boo” faces to tummy tickles to doggies kissing sister’s feet makes baby laugh.  Not just a little chuckle, but a deep belly laugh that makes everyone else in the house laugh too.

Laughter is Baby’s superpower.

Sometimes even in “Total Demolition Mode” laughter emerges.  Mom can be cleaning up one mess as baby is making two more yet when she sees the marker masked bandit excited to show her his masterpiece of tape and sequins decorating the couch, Mom just can’t help but laugh.  (Maybe a bit of insanity laughter, but still laughter.)  Of course, those stories make everyone at the family reunions laugh (or the lady’s group, church, PTA, etc.)  This is because anyone who has experienced baby knows the memories are what you carry with you.

God has entrusted us with His little angels (they are His first) for a short time.  18 years goes by so quickly.  Before you are done cleaning up messes, your baby has toddled off to school and instead of screaming because he’s hungry and can’t express it, he is asking for the car keys.

Enjoy the baby levels, different modes, and ages of life.  Remember that laughter can turn any situation into a happy memory. Who knows?  An artistic mess might be framed and remain part of the wall to show your Grandchildren, “see, this is what your daddy did to my wall when he was your age.”

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Where the Crib is Clean

May 27, 2017

Where the Crib is Clean

It is 1900 hours. I’m at war. I come in armed with every weapon in the arsenal. I am determined to win this battle. THIS HOUSE WILL BE CLEAN!

“Mommy!” squeals the toddler, streaking through soaking wet and followed closely by another child, chasing him, in shoes that have obviously been outside. Battle temporarily paused as main unit boils like a canning pot in frustration.

The most simple and yet most complex of all equations: H2O + DIRT = MUD … and wet couches, footprints… this is the assault that never ends, it goes on and on my friends! And yes. It Will NEVER END! (Especially if you have a child and/or a pet – and in this equation, 2 doesn’t equal double the mess, it equals mess to the tenth power!)

While the sounds of war (okay, laughter and squeals of rapturous joy – but those sounds feel like flaming arrows right now) engulf my brain into retreat and I attempt to bury myself in a book and disappear, I’m able to find my big-vision goggles.

When I’m at a loss for what to read, I grab the Bible and open to Proverbs, look at the calendar (or attempt to remember the date for ten minutes before I give up and check my wall or my phone), and read that date’s chapter. Well, it was the 14th of I-forgot-the-month. (Oh yes, January – one birthday just done, another around the corner and year-end business reports due on the 15th! Oh my, that’s tomorrow!)

Proverbs 14:4 reads : “Where no oxen are, the crib is clean, but much increase is by the strength of the ox.”

What I saw was: “Where no children are in the house, it is clean, but much blessing, love, joy, and strength are gained by the vibrant, amazing, intelligent young people being trained within!”

Big vision goggles on.

“Cleaning the house” is a battle that will never end. But, just like a productive farm has a dirty “crib” (okay, think motor oil spills and mud tracked in the barn by a tractor today) and a productive kitchen has dirty dishes (yes, my dishes are stacked in a to-the roof model of the leaning tower of Pisa), a productive house is in a constant state of never-really-perfectly-clean. (Mine is in constant state of tornado-just-went-through.) A productive house, according to the same chapter I was reading means a place where wise parents are building up the next generation(s) and encouraging each other.

A game of Scream-the-Flash-Card-Answers has started. Lucas is on the drums. Jillian is watching Christina play the piano. I glance at the after-dinner kitchen chaos. Someone has unloaded the dish drain and Rebeccah is working on dismantling the leaning tower of Pisa without creating a demolition zone. My war on cleaning is secondary to the battle we are winning – the strategic, long-term battle of instilling character and truth in our children.

If I seriously believe that I should “Do everything as if unto God” and know that children follow my example more than my words, training would be to model a joyful attitude in mundane “serving” tasks like cleaning.

So, loud dance music comes on, (God knows me so well, “Born for This” – which is perfect, I love this song.) I try to delegate cleaning operations and bedtime preparations.

Oh yes, I’m a perfectionist and “clean” would pass hospital sterility, but if my “crib” is clean, it means my children aren’t there. I want to enjoy this “untidy crib” with all the vibrant life within it for as long as I can.

Translation: less stress about the house. Stop and play or teach as needed. Tidy up the last big mess at one set time with teamwork – it’s easier and more fun.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

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