a prayer for oomph

I. Am. So. Lazy.

I have no oomph. I want to have this baby and go back to normal. Stop laughing. Yeah, yeah, I know, nothing brings "normal" back like a newborn. I still am ready to have this baby. Because, really, I usually do just feel much better once the baby is here. And the baby is coming, regardless, and we are going to have to find that new normal anyway, so I'd just as soon do it now, thank you. Right after I catch up the laundry. So, that's what I need. The kick in the pants, just a week's worth of steam really, to go do all the things I still need to do, get the cleaning and laundry caught up nicely, etc. I mean, I haven't gotten *anything* ready. I haven't even broken out the wee little baby clothes, washed them, and put them in the dresser. Don't feel sorry for me. Yell at me. That's what I need. I need good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt. I need Sister Mary Carmela, my 5th grade teacher, to come over here and find me sitting on the couch watching Good Morning America and say, "Look at that crucifix! Our good Lord suffered and died for your sins and look at you, just sitting here being slothful! You aren't even folding laundry or anything while you are sitting here! Get up! Go, fulfill the duties of your vocation and offer it up for the Holy Souls in Purgatory! Do it for the good of your own sorry soul so that you may spend as little time there as possible when you face the Judgement of God!"

Ah, I mean no disrespect to Sister. I loved Sister Mary Carmela. She was one of my favorite teachers. She was one of those rare teachers that maintained perfect control of a classroom full of children and never even raised her voice. Or her ruler. She was very strict, but very fair, and the one thing I remember being most impressed with, even at age 10, was how very respectful she was of her students. There was this one unfortunate boy, Michael, in our class (doesn't every class have one?) that was very socially awkward and was teased quite a lot. I use the term awkward kindly. He really was a bizarre child. I'm not talking about a picked-on shy wallflower (that would have been MY role in the classroom), I'm talking about a child that had no friends and seemed to really not know how to make any. He antagonized the heck out of everyone and really was his own worst enemy. I think today he would be diagnosed with Asperger's or something. Anyway, he was going on and on about maps and directions one day in class, and the other boys were moaning and groaning about how terribly dorky it all was. Sister quietly had Michael sit down and, in a low and controlled tone, told us how terribly gifted Michael was in this area, how God has given his this gift or understanding maps and directions, how really he was quite a human compass, and how wrong it was for anyone to tease him for expressing his gift. She did not do this in a lecturing way, but in a motivational speaker sort of way so that by the end of it everyone just looked rather ashamed with themselves and grudgingly impressed with Michael. Me? I was impressed with Sister. What a talent with children! And, yes, she could deliver an old school Catholic guilt trip when appropriate.

Anyway, here's to you Sister, wherever you now are...she may be a little old nun somewhere now. Or she may be with God. If she is, I hope she'll pray me up some of her talents. In the meantime...thanks for reading this rambling post and helping me procrastinate some more. Now I really, really really, am off to do some laundry.