Need to Draw a Little Closer to My Boys

In a post the other day I described a humanified vision of what ant society may be like. I implied they could do, be, much more than they are, if shown way.

The reality is ants are impressively perfect in what they do. They may not have much of a view of themselves as individuals, but as examples of duty, work ethic, thinking of the greater good, they are supreme examples.

Humans resist this extreme vision of life for good reasons. It isn’t in our nature to surrender our individuality. It is probably one reason communism has always had difficulty in application.

Still, the boring grind of life for so many is a great cause of stress, anxiety.

I’m fortunate that I love my work so much, that the things in my life, my faith, my children, my robotics teams, my TV productions, are things I enjoy. I don’t have a boring grind.

But I can back off the passion of my life, become lazy, coast, and that isn’t so good.

I’m thinking about my home life.

I clean house, and teach my sons to do the same, I cook, and teach that to my boys, I wash clothes, and they are taught that as well... but... I have been slipping a bit being fully engaged in my home life.

It occurs to me I spend a lot of my evenings reading, or writing, or web surfing, and that this is the last year, perhaps the last few months, with my sons, with this vanishing family of mine.

It’s the daily grind that is wearing me down a little. Settling into patterns.

The past year or two has been so filled with crisis... this lull is sometimes filled with things of no lasting value.

I was looking up information on the internet last night, nothing of great import (I was curious about environmental impact of sheep versus cattle) and I realized that for the past half hour or more Isaac was playing a game on the computer, and Jeremiah was in his room playing a video game. I felt a twinge of guilt that I wasn't doing more with them.

I’ve been a little saddened, irritated, and a touch resentful hearing Brenda has been going to the coast fishing with her boyfriend every other week, and concerts the other weekends.

It is a small step from those thoughts to the path she took, leading to the resentment. (I do not think I am in danger of traveling that path.)

I have been having a couple of ounces of whiskey with five or six ounces of chocolate in the evenings. Not enough to even feel it, and often I don’t finish the glass, but I’m watching it... I don’t need to develop any habits I regret.

When this whole thing was blowing up... Brenda was moving in and out, I was confused about recipes, temperatures for laundry, what skills the boys needed... there was so much to do, my mind was so active, I didn’t slow down like I’m doing now.

Slowing down is a good thing, especially when it is reflective, or worshipful, restful. It is the opposite of the antish obsession with work and duty.

But... though it is OK for my kids to play their games now and then, and for me read about the average length of grasses after the passage of ungulates, it seems I can better use my time.

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OK... time out!

I started this post last night... after the boys had been put to bed... but it’s evening again, and instead of spending the evening doing something fun with my sons as I planned, a little bonding of some sort... I’m in bed.

I’m sick.

I’ve had a sore throat for a couple of weeks, but now it’s in my sinuses. I’m sneezing... oh... every few minutes... sometimes seven or eight times in a row.

I’m going to go to sleep in a few minutes, but first, why I’m pausing to jot down this sneeze punctuated post.

I asked the boys if they could fix their meal themselves (a dish I have taught them thoroughly) and crawled into bed.

Isaac came in with a little food, insisted I eat something. He immediately returned with a huge glass of orange juice and some cold medicine. He came back a half hour later with more juice and strict instructions I drink it.

He told me he loved me and to hurry up and get off the computer and get some rest.

I wasn’t able to share the evening in a way that would draw us a little closer together... but my sweet son has picked up the slack.