"The Brain that is Scattered" Or, "Bird. Cat. Dog. A Triangle of Violence"

Note: The following words and pictures are completely unrelated one to the other.  I had the pictures uploaded several months ago and I hate to waste the drama they represent.  I have something else on my mind that I want to talk about, and the pictures don't seem to need words to tell their story, so feel free to comment on either the pictures of animal violence or on my rambley thoughts.

Can you see what Little Kitty has in her mouth?

I have been thinking about passion lately. 

No, not the trashy novel kind of passion - although contextually that's great. 

I've been thinking about life passion.  As in, motivation for life. Purpose.

This is not Little Kitty! This is Mighty Hunter Kitty. And she has catched herself a mighty fine lunch.

Most of my friends are like me - spread pretty thinly (although I must say that I feel pretty thickly spread in most of my jeans) across a variety of life ventures. We're raising kids; working jobs (paid and unpaid); trying to contribute in the church, in the community; wanting to pretty-up our homes; managing households. We are pulled in many directions, and there are so many things to talk about!

The talking thing doesn't seem to be a problem for me, or for most of my friends.

Friendly Dolly, the Wunder-Hund, wants to share Little Kitty's lunch.

But some of my friends, although they live a similarly well-packed life, don't seem to talk about more than one subject. I seem to have a minimum of three topics going at once.  Yet with these women, it's obvious that they have one thing on which their attention is focused.  I'm not implying that they neglect the other aspects of life, but they don't talk about that other stuff.  Whatever their "thing" is - home education, health food, fitness, marketing, adoption, music, children, home decor, social justice, Bible study, bee keeping - that is what comes out of their mouth.
Sometimes it even feels like they only have time for a chat if you can stick to dialogue about their preferred theme.
Sometimes it feels like they just need you to listen.
Sometimes it feels as if they are Marys choosing the good part and I'm the Martha rushing around needlessly.
Sometimes I just feel guilty around them.

Little Kitty looks away. If she doesn't see the hungry dog, surely no one will expect her to share.

So I have been considering "what I talk about" and "what fills my days."

Dolly feels ignored and gives a look that pleads for an intervention of justice.

What fills my days? Homeschooling. Not my passion. (Did I just type that aloud? Oh no! Now all my homeschooling buddies hate me.) Let me clarify: my children are one of my passions. Or five of my passions. Definitely. But I do not feel deeply about homeschooling, one way or another.  We've tried it out this year and we may or may not continue it in the future.  Regardless of our education choices, we will still be parenting our youngsters, whether we leave the teaching of long division to someone else or tackle all their academic pursuits ourselves. This sounds a lot like a separate exploratory post waiting to happen. Stay tuned.

Once Dolly has been called away, Little Kitty descends to eat her lunch away from paparazzi.

Anyway. What else do I do?
Cooking.  Well, I do like to eat.  But, I don't know that I can talk about food prep so much with food in my mouth all the time.
Reading. Yes. I could talk about reading. But really, someday I'd like to tell my own stories in between reading other peoples' tales. And then maybe we can talk about both.
Housework. Most assuredly not my passion, as many visitors can attest.
Family. Mmm-hmmm. Both my little family and our big extensions of ancestry -  I like to spend time with family and on family history.  Yet, while talking about family (problems, anecdotes, history, etc...) is fun, it can certainly lead to some sticky situations if the family finds out you have been talking about them.  Some stuff should just stay in the family, know what I mean? [Please go back and reread that last sentence in your best Mafia Voice.]
Hobbies. Well, they are fun and all, but they're just hobbies - not all-consuming obsession.
Church/Community. In general, I love the time I spend devoted to this area, but... well... talking about other people is just not a good idea. Although gossip is delicious, it's poison. You wouldn't eat chocolate-dipped d-Con would you?

Pesky dog Wunder-Hund won't come in the house. Little Kitty goes further out on a lunch-friendly limb.  The paparazzi went back to Math lessons.

Are you waiting for me to mention God in all this? Well, I pray that my devotion to Him would permeate every aspect of my life.  All of it: the marriage, the kids, the relationships with other people out there, the vegetable garden, the random jogging... even the scantly-done housework.  And I am asking Him to direct me if He wants me to have a "thing" - a particular subject or passion to fill all the extra spaces in my days (all that time in between the raising kids and loving the people and the eating parts) and to preoccupy my conversation.  Until that's clear to me, I guess I'll remain round-bodied, thinly-spread and scatter-brained.  
I beg pardon and grace from those of you who are more/better focused than I; I do care about many things, and I know The One that is necessary.

Have the Shirt

I was such an awesome mom this morning that I wore the shirt to prove it. It's a long-sleeved tee that I bought in the boys' department of Old Navy for $2 and it says "Awesome!" across the front.
That was this morning, when I was on top of the world. Or at least on top of my little world. At the very last minute before the school kids left I remembered the dress-like-a-pioneer-and-take-your-lunch-in-a-tin-pail field trip. I didn't even sweat. Kid was re-dressed and packed in amazingly record time.
Then the battery was dead in the Daddy car (usual ride to school). No biggie: I whipped up the toddler and baby, loaded all five offspring in the car and dropped them off before the tardy bell even thought about ringing. On the return home, I listened to NPR's partial listing of Nobel prize winners. I felt like I could fit right in.
I played with the least'uns, tidied the house, even organized my fabric piles a bit. OK, I just mostly moved the fabric piles around, but I did put some pieces aside for a project I have in the works. By the time the Big Ones got off the bus, I had a snack ready, stuff packed and hurried us off to the soccer-meets-football-meets-piano lessons that is our Monday afternoon.
But now.
Now I've finally put five exhausted children to bed (late), at least one sleeping in her clothes and another crying for reasons unknown.
I am not awesome anymore.
That's what happens when you change your shirt, I guess.