Fried calamari and grape for Robster.
Shrimp sushi for Annie.
Mom, two hours later as Annie's been asleep for 90 minutes.
She's had shellfish before? Right? Right?
She's not allergic right?
(Waking baby to check...)
(She would at least have a rash by now, right?)
(No shellfish allergy.)
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
I'm a self-confessed Bible moron. I'm ok with that.
I can't speak to or quote a scripture. Ok with.
I can't play "find the verse" or "who said x" in any Bible situation. I'm ok with that too.
I know the big picture stories. Noah: Ark. Moses: Basket. Golden: Rule. Jesus: Manger. Do Good.
Be good. Coveting bad. Loving good.
I'm even churched "enough" to get into the Christmas and Easter stories a little deeper.
I've been prepping to write a blog for a few weeks on how we all need to look out for one another. Support and compliment once another. Watch and Listen.
It was to be titled, "We Are Each Other's Keepers".
Then I googled it.
I learned I was speaking the Bible. Speaking Cain and Abel. Think I think "yea them", but stories I don't intimately know.
Then the Navy Yard happened.
A shooting at the Capitol that wasn't really a shooting, but kind of was a shooting, and damn someone died happened.
A guy burnt himself to death on the Mall (self-immolation... I learned a new word this week.)
DC has been thrown into a state of chaos in the last few weeks.
We have seen unspeakable terror at the Navy Yard, faced job adversity as our jobs are rendered non-essential, and our paychecks are rendered non-existent. Faced questionable afternoons desperately monitoring twitter and Fox! No CNN! No MSNBC! controlling the remote to hear the newest on the Capitol shooting and the who/what/where.
We feel fear. We relate it on Facebook and Twitter and personal blogs and places that seem so "Hello, here, I am, here's my scared opinion." We speak in social media words, because we don't know how to process chaos.
And hell, in between it all, Mom gets strep throat. The delicate balance has been thrown to hell.
But we need to return to, where we are at this very minute. We must be each other's keeper.
How to you keep a city full of people who don't want to be kept? God knows I don't want to.
Neighbor? Are you ok? I know you are a DOD civilian, needing to make October's rent.
Colleague? Are you ok? I know that you spend 85% of your days on Capitol Hill and you are terrified what could happen to you.
Friend? You travel through the Navy Yard metro daily. You were 10 minutes late that day and saw more than you care to admit.
Neighbor, friend, colleague, and family, you know what I don't take the time to do? I don't take the time to celebrate you. To congratulate you. To admire the parent you are. The friend you are. The colleague you are.
So you? You that took a meeting for me because I was wiped with a 103 degree fever? Thanks for keeping me.
Friend who hangs with the littlest so I can chase the oldest around the soccer field in the 90 degree heat? Thanks for keeping me.
Couple who sits at dinner with us with their little ones and sings Wheels on the Bus LOUDLY to keep all kids happy. Thanks for keeping me. And always meeting for dinner at the aren't-we-awesome time of 5pm? Also keeping.
Buddy who unfailingly emails at all the right times just to be in touch? You may not know how much you are keeping me.
Mom friend who offers meals and chickens and drop off playdates without a thought? Thanks for keeping me.
Long time besty who accepts emails like "I'm feeling like a loser. Can we do something?" by organizing a speedy girls night out. Keeping.
Cross country buddies who can keep me in 140 characters or less? #Keeping.
Anyone want to come keep my laundry? Seeking keeper!!
You see though? With the keeping in a city of not wanting to be kept, your burden is mine.
Your celebration is mine.
I too offer rotisserie chicken. I shop a mean prepared Costco entrée
But I'm also here to you with support when you are uncertain. And I celebrate when things go your way.
I support you.
I am your keeper even when you don't want to be kept.