Resourcefulness

I ate a chicken breast with a spoon today.  Add that to the long list of times I’ve conquered yogurt with a fork, or attempted, with great concentration, to dissolve the honey in my tea using only the swirling motion of the tea bag.  I generally bring my lunch to work, and sometimes the morning rush or just a lack of foresight leave me unprepared.  You know how it is – you’re trying to throw a reasonably nutritious collection of food together while a small person is whining at your feet because he wasn’t allowed to hold the pickle jar before the refrigerator door closed.  No?  That’s just me?  Well, moving on…

 

Thankfully, the human brain is wired to problem solve.  Did I panic when I realized I didn’t have a fork and knife on hand today?  No, I was able to immediately identify a suitable alternative.  Resourcefulness.  A silly example, I know, but perhaps instances like these serve as warm-ups for the real thing.  Mini-workouts to keep us on our toes for when we’re forced to rise to a greater challenge.  It stands to reason, then, that those who most frequently take part in these types of exercises are the most “resourcefully fit,” displaying mind-boggling agility when caught in sticky situations.

 

I, for one, believe my experience so far as a parent has started to hone these skills.  No diaper changing station in the restaurant?  Set up shop in the open trunk of the car.  Spit-up all over the couch?  A handheld clothes steamer should do the trick.  Sure, the first few minor parenting trials like this rattled us for a moment until logical thinking could resume.  However, you learn to anticipate the worst and have solutions in place ahead of time.  Pro-active resourcefulness!   High five, brain!  For example:

 

• I don’t just plan dinner.  I consider how the entrée will be received by a toddler based on a precise analysis of components including appearance, texture, flavor, and familiarity.  Side dishes are methodically planned in accordance with my findings.  If I anticipate the main course being desirable, it could be an opportunity to sneak in a new vegetable.  If coaxing may be required, I litter the plate with favorites and break out the holy grail of toddler dinner appeal – dip!  (I am convinced my son would try shoe leather if he could relish in the glorious task of dipping it in barbeque sauce first…but, I digress.)

• I know if I walk into my son’s room in the morning while brushing my teeth I better have his toothbrush in hand.  He’s going to want to brush his teeth the minute he sees me doing it.  And by that I mean he will repeatedly ask for his toothbrush in a rapid succession of pleas, each one becoming more and more desperate until I find myself running back from the bathroom with an Elmo toothbrush and cursing the builders that would dare to position a bathroom a whole 5 feet from the bedroom door.  The nerve!

 

So I labor on with fellow planners and resourcefulness-ers, earning my super hero mommy cape one day at a time.  I can only hope all these tests provide some benefit in interactions with people over the age of 2 as well.  And I’m confident they will.  I continue to find that parenting provides a number of lessons that can apply in the workplace, further confirming my theory that my child will teach me much more than I could ever hope to impart to him. 

 

Our experiences as a parent can alter how we set expectations, how we react to others, and how we adapt to situations that don’t go as planned.  As I tackle projects at work on the fly or deal with unanticipated questions in a presentation, I can thank a collection of ill-timed poopy diapers for giving me the tools I need to respond effectively.  And I can peacefully enjoy a chicken breast in my office eaten with a spoon – noticing not the subpar utensil, but the rare calm that accompanies my meal.

Multitude of Mediocrity

I’ve considered starting a blog in the past, but I was unconvinced I had anything valuable to say.  However, as thoughts pop into my head I find it therapeutic to take the time to explore them.  Thoughts about parenting, working, relationships, observations from daily life, and how I can tie them together – with a healthy sense of humor.  So, you may argue I still don’t have anything valuable to say (and I may agree), but it’s valuable to me to write it. And to the extent anyone reads any of this and is able to relate to it, even in a small way, we can laugh together and take comfort in shared experiences.  In the meantime, my wonderfully patient husband may be relieved that some of this fodder moves from the dinner table to the open airspace of the interwebs.

 

I make no commitment to how often I will make posts or how good they will be.  I’ve been in my brain for a while now, so what I can tell you is to expect a wide variety of topics and random quirks explored here.  I love to write, but the thought of anyone reading anything I’ve written is completely foreign to me and incredibly scary, so I humbly thank you for even making it this far.

 

And a quick note on the name of the blog – Multitude of Mediocrity.  It’s a happy coincidence that the acronym is M.O.M, but I didn’t start there.  I’ve always felt like a bit of a “jack (or jill?) of all trades, master of none” (emphasis on the second part of that phrase…I am nothing if not self-deprecating!).  I can generally hold my own in intelligent conversation, I can carry a tune, and I’m reasonably athletic. However, I didn’t go to Harvard, I would not call myself a musician by any stretch, and I certainly didn’t receive an athletic scholarship (or even compete in high school sports for that matter).  I’ve never felt like the best at any one thing, and I really don’t know what my “thing” is.  Those who know me well know that I can get equally excited about gardening, Shark Week, financial analysis, or a good book.  And don’t get me wrong, I love the variety! 

 

This dynamic has been highlighted in my life as I juggle an increasing number of adult responsibilities – marriage, parenting, church activities, managing a household, and working full time.  For any of us with a lot on our plates, it’s easy to question whether we’re able to truly devote enough of ourselves to each of these tasks.  I use the term “multitude of mediocrity” partially in jest, of course, to recognize that we all feel this way at times but we’re just doing the best we can to keep it all together.  And counting each amazing blessing along the way.

 

Let's do this.