Monday, April 4, 2011
It Wasn't Me...It Was Julie!!
Okay, I'm being sarcastic. At least about the part where the kids should be like us. Well, at least when it comes to making excuses. It doesn't matter how old we are, being responsible takes some work. It takes some effort. And there's the rub.
One of my favorite excuse lines is from a movie and it goes something like this, "It wasn't me! It was Julie!" I won't elaborate, but it's my go-to statement when I'm being a big baby and don't want to take responsibility for something. I'm not alone in this battle to be more responsible, aside from the kiddos, there are lots and lots and lots of people in the world who just don't want to take responsibility in any way, shape or form. It can range from relationship issues (always blaming the mean, uncaring husband) to giving boundaries to our children ("Junior is just acting demon possessed because he's tired and teething. I know he's 12, but really...tired and teething...") to a million reasons why we don't eat right or take care of ourselves.
I hear a lot of excuses in my classroom like, "I'm tired, Mrs. Weaver, do we have to do work? I stayed up until 4 AM playing 'Call of Duty' and I just can't do this English stuff you want me to do today!" Yesterday, in kids' church, I heard a great one. When asked why a youngster jumped about six feet out of his chair at an inappropriate time, the answer was, "I fell!" Don't you hate when you projectile fall from your chair? Me, too.
But, I can't just come down on the kids. I started a diet...I know...because I need to, but my reason for putting it off until now is that I've had a very stressful year or two. (Did you hear the pathetic, whiny sound in my voice?) I'm teaching, doing stuff at church, writing, finishing my master's degree, sending kids to college, going to the high school kid's "stuff", being a pastor's wife, being a regular wife, still settling in after a move.
Okay, I just read back over that and it's pretty weak. Kind of embarrassing. Actually, all of those supposed roadblocks to my eating properly are truly amazing blessings in this life. Crud. When it comes to excuses...I got nuthin'.
I mean, my kids at college...they're making me eat extra butter? How about finishing that degree? My professors are sending subliminal messages for me to drink Dr. Pepper? Um, I don't think the fact that they are "doctors" really has anything to do with my extreme consumption of the beverage. Going to Klay's baseball game tomorrow evening somehow warrants my going to the concession stand and eating chili cheese fries? (Okay, let me get back to you on that one...it is a double-header, you know.)
Kid behavior and adult eating habits are easy targets in the world of excuse making. I actually hide behind them this evening as I have bigger issues. Wow. I think I'm excusing my excuses. I have degrees of excuses. This is sad.
Today, I lost a coworker. She was very good to me and I appreciated her friendship. Right after we received the news of her passing, my first thought was, "I wish I would've spent more time with her, but we were all so busy." Yuck. Seriously? What am I so busy with? Coming up with the cure for cancer by Easter? Could that stack of papers have waited five more minutes once in a while so that I could ask her how she was really doing and then actually listen to her full response? Oh, I'm not beating myself into the ground. I actually purpose and do a fair job checking up on people...letting them know I care. But, could I do better? Yes, I could. No excuses.
If that last little bit wasn't heavy enough for you, let me take it one step further. Excuses? In light of the cross of Christ...um...I got nuthin'.
Okay, Lord. You know it and I know it. It isn't always Julie.