Ablution

Since returning to school, my husband and I have had to make due with less. A lot less. And then, after Rohnan came, we had to divide his one income into 3 and this means that I have had to face quite a few demons. They are wily ones. They are selfish and bratty and impressively salient throughout my attempts to evolve into a gracious woman. There is the one demon who blames everything else but myself for all the things I want but lack. There's the other one, blame's best friend, who would have me believe that my wants are my needs. I could go on and name them all, but that would take years.

So - it's humbling.

There's a funny thing that happens on the stumble to humble. Grace.

Here's an example: We rent a teeny weeny house on a big (relatively speaking, for Westside Santa Cruz) plot of land. There is no bathtub. I repeat - no bathtub. I have a toddler and I ADORE my baths. Hmmm, conundrum, no? I'll say. I had my stages with this. I whined a bit. I made poor Rohnan take showers with me as he howled. I poured over internet pages looking for some cheap version of a Japanese soaking tub that might fit into the shower stall. The cheapest is $1500, which isn't exactly an amount I want to invest in my landlady, as interesting and Dutch as she is and all. I listened to my husband's well-intended but misguided plans to weld a metal tub into the stall, which were labor intensive and labor is money.

Then I went to Home Depot. Yes, I faced my nemesis of big store boxness and bought a plastic storage tub that's about 2 1/2' x 4'. And so far, while I'm not exactly Amphritrite, it gets the job done. With candles, Rohnan has his nightly tubby and I get to have my goddess time. By the same light I get to have exfoliation, shaving, masques - all the things I went without while Rohnan was very small. I was queen of the one leg shaved, one leg not for many months.

So taking the time to do these seemingly inconsequential, superficial things helps me to be totally present in my daily life. Okay, so "totally present" means nothing. I'm saying that there's a raging part of me (no, not that part) that is a complete bitch when I don't feel nurtured, and most likely, I'm going to be the one doing the nurturing. It took me awhile to realize that these are not mindless vanities or some huge indulgence, no, they are my tiny rituals to myself to remember that I can feel beautiful regardless of money or haggard schedules or the fact that I only get about a date a month with my husband.

Candles work wonders for the imagination. I can transport myself to almost any reality via candlelight! I have them lit for Rohnan anyway. It's how we transition into sleepytime. I actually have a personal belief that candlelight makes people smarter. During the winter months I try to wake the family with only candlelight as much as possible. It's my vigil to the universal desire to hibernate. It softens the day.

But to tie this into grace...

One of the HUGE things having a child has taught me is that everything is finite except love. There is this absolutely wonderful cartoon by Sam Gross in which two snails are looking at a tape dispenser and the one snail says to the other: "I don't care if she is a tape dispenser. I love her." That cartoon pretty much sums up the secret of life. When we pour love onto something, whether a person, place, thing, idea, what have you, it becomes whole. It becomes accepted. My shower stall is equal to a tape dispenser - love gives it grace - ergo, I am tape dispenser! I am shower stall!

I am Rohnan's laughter in the tubby, ringing off the tile walls. Humble me.