On Motherhood and Spiders

I have never been a fan of spiders. If you check my facebook fan list, you will not see spiders. Not that spiders don't have their place in nature, they absolutely do, and there is something ethereal about a dew-kissed web glittering in the sun. The patterns are beautiful and simple, and some spiders make ones that are amazingly well proportioned, as if they have a built in ruler that scans the length of the silk and gives a digital readout at the bottom of their field of vision. But, unfortunately for all their craftsmanship, spiders themselves are less than beautiful because, well, they bite.

Even still, I would not squish one for that reason, and do not advocate pointless squishing of any living thing. But there is one thing that gives me the courage and ability to squish the ever-menacing creepy crawly scampering across my wall, and that is motherhood.

I did have a spider friend once. For years, she and her progeny lived in the corner behind my washer. She was my Charlotte, a wood spider, who I knew would never bite anyone living in my house, so I let her stay. It was oddly comforting to see her everytime I closed the washer lid and lifted the button to the sound of rushing water. She was always there, a friendly constant in my life. My boys would climb on top of the washer and just watch her. No one ever disturbed her. To do so seemed irreverent. We just happily coexisted in our own space.

But spiders are like humans in the sense that no two are alike. For some reason, our yard attracts large numbers of black widows. Just the sight of a black widow creates a sense of forboding, maybe because her venom can paralyze your nervous system and cause painful contractions of all your muscles, including your heart. Yeah, that's enough to create forboding, especially if you are a parent. My husband has to spray and squish them every so often to keep the population down. No one takes joy in this spider massacre, but it is necessary to protect the kids. It's hard for them to understand without going into detail, why we squish the black widow, but tenderly care for the lady bug. When they're little we keep it at a simple "they bite" and they understand without knowing that they are willing to kill you for no apparent reason. "They bite" is plenty of information.

In retrospect, I was really always afraid of spiders. When I was a little girl, my mom and dad would squish them for me and that would keep me "safe" from bites, or crawling on me, or if they were to happen to grow 20 feet and suddenly decide they wanted to squish me. Mom and Dad were always there, ready to squish. I never squished my own spiders. Even in college, sitting in Entomology class, marvelling at the wonder of spinnerets, when the discussion came to fangs, chills ran up and down my spine. But then I became a mother, and everything changed.

Books's birth was the most awakening experience of my life. He was precious, beautiful, and completely reliant upon me for everything. I could not even fathom allowing a spider to harm him. Suddenly, spiders were small.

I wonder if the bear and hen go through this same transformation, from relying upon others to preserve your life to sacrificing it to preserve your young. In that sense, we have much in common with animal life. Fear leaves and the only remnant is this aggression toward predators. Like a mother wolf, teeth bared and growling at the approaching threat, babies huddled behind her. She seems to be saying stay away from my babies or one of us is going to die. Circle of life. Or maybe I watch too much Planet Earth. Or too much Lion King. :) I'm sure husbands and fathers must experience this same sense of protectiveness, but I imagine for him the protective feeling encompasses the children and the mother. For animal parents it is one of their many instincts, but even for us humans it doesn't require any conscious thought that we need to protect them, it just happens, instinctive for us as well, apart from and above our enlightened understanding.

So without thought, I sacrifice a flip-flop, foot of toilet paper, or Kleenex to slay the dragons and keep my babies safe. Unfortunately, dragons still come. Last week, Bob woke up covered in little red itchy spots. I thought fleas had come in our house through some sleeping bags that had been stored in our garage, so I changed all the bedding and vacuumed and washed all the laundry, thinking that would solve the problem. I had checked all around and under the bed and there were no webs, so I figured it must be fleas. But a few nights later, Books was bitten too. Then this morning, the boys find me and say, "Mom, we know what's been biting us, can you get it?" So I follow them into their room and sure enough, there's a garden spider, deer in the headlights, caught climbing to the ceiling. I take my flip-flop and squish him. Whew... sighs of relief flow through the room from four little bodies. There is once again peace in the land, and I am happily the mother of four safe babies.

Mary and Martha

I've always been intrigued by the story of Mary and Martha. I think the understanding of it has always been above my comprehension. It has always seemed to me that what both women were doing was valuable, and I could never understand why Mary was choosing the better part.

Martha was busy working around the house, taking care of the physical needs of the family. She noticed that Mary was not helping, and asked the Savior to bid her to help.

Mary was sitting at the Savior's feet, listening to Him speak.

Jesus told Martha she was careful and troubled about many things, and that Mary would be allowed to do what she was doing because she had chosen the good part, which would not be taken from her.

Maybe Jesus was teaching a lesson in priorities. Although what Martha was doing was much needed in the household, it seems like Mary was more in tune with the spirit of the Savior's teachings. He taught that the first and great commandment of all the commandments is to love God with all our heart, might, mind, and strength, and the second is to love one another as we love ourselves. Maybe Mary understood that those commandments come first and understood what it means to give them priority. Mary wasn't being lazy as Martha may have surmised, she was actually serving.

So Martha was hardworking and well engaged, but Mary understood the purpose for the engagement, which is love, and love was her priority. This helps me understand what things I need to do first and where my priorities should be. Although I know part of making my family happy is to keep things clean and organized, if I am in tune with my family members and able to surmise what they need from me, I can be like Mary, choosing the better part.

I know that sometimes reading a book to one of my kids is more important than cleaning behind the sofa, or anything else I could be doing at that moment, for that matter. There are so many busy moments from the past that I wish I could relive and sit down and read that book with one of my kids. But I can't. Parenthood doesn't come with instructions, and a person doesn't suddenly become perfect when they become a parent. They continue to grow and hopefully with each child become more patient and giving of self, so I can forgive myself for my past parenting mistakes, and look forward to the daily opportunities to choose to make my family happy.

"38 Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house.
39 And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heart his word.
40 But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.
41 And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:
42 But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."
Luke 10: 38-42

Rainbows and Silver Lining

Several years ago, our family decided to take a vacation to Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park (with a stop off in Canonville, Utah just for fun). We wanted to have a rugged and bonding experience, so we rented a motorhome and drove the trip. I think it was one of the best weeks we've had together. I don't think any of us will forget passing around cheese and crackers and summer sausage in the car, picnicking in an open field in the middle of nowhere with our baseball equipment handy, or especially, the rate at which our hearts were pumping as two year-old Buzz went racing down a trail on the other side of the wooden fence at the top of the Grand Canyon (I think just remembering it raises my blood pressure!...) 

Those are some fantastic (and frightening!) memories. But mostly, I remember long talks in that motorhome as we drove. The weather was so beautiful, with a clear blue sky and scattered showers. When we arrived at Bryce Canyon, we were awed and inspired by the beauty of its creation. It was surreal. The pottery coral colors glowed against the cornflower blue sky, as did the still wet blacktop road and glossy greenery surrounding the viewpoint washed clean from the recent rainfall. But the most breathtaking vision was the rainbow beginning at one of the peaks in the rocks and disappearing into the sky. It reminded us of the rainbow given so long ago, as a promise to the good-hearted Noah, and of the promises we had made to each other, and to our Father in Heaven. 

As we drove along that stretch of road we encountered occasional clouds, some light and fluffy, some dark and grey. The white ones hung in the sky, fluffy cotton balls inviting us to rest our weary heads upon them, but playfully staying high in the sky out of our reach. Then there were the dark ones. When they moved across they dominated everything, grabbing the light with a sort of natural osmosis and laying like a wet blanket over our once happy sky. Our mood fell and smiles melted. But as we gazed out the windows wishing for the light to return, we noticed something. Each dark cloud was illuminated from behind by a streak of light, even brighter than anything we had seen before. The silver lining. We reflected upon the silver linings in our own lives, and how when our dark clouds come and threaten to smother our happiness, that silver lining is ever-present, and ready to shine through the darkness, and it does when we allow ourselves to see it there behind the clouds. 

Today is a cloudy day. I am smiling because as I picked up my children at various times, two of them pointed upwards, and gazing up at the sky, proclaimed that our sky is full of silver lining, and that makes our sky particularly beautiful today.