This morning progressed like every other Tuesday morning. I woke around seven to Lu crying, “Mommy, I need to go pee”, ushered her into the bathroom, prepared her breakfast and lunch, bundled her up for the walk to school, bundled myself, and headed out the door (all while listening to her whine and cry about nothing in particular). Having arrived at her preschool we went through the necessary routine of stripping her layers, washing her hands, shoving her backpack, coat, snowsuit, and lunchbox in her cubby, writing her name, signing her in and kissing her goodbye. I arrived at home ready for a cup of coffee, some tummy warming oatmeal with blueberries and maple syrup, and a bit of quiet relaxation before heading to the gym for an ass-kicking, sweat-inducing workout. However, I decided that before making myself too comfortable in the warmth of my home, I should try to start my car, since the cold temperatures have made it moody, some days starting immediately, some days starting after 10-15 tries, or refusing to start altogether without a jumpstart. Putting the key in the ignition, my hopes were high. After all, I had run it the day before despite it taking 15 minutes or so to get started. The first turn of the key resulted in a quick VROOM before the engine shut down completely. This caused me no worry, this had happened before. The second turn of the key produced the same results. Still I had gotten it started after trying many more times than this. Five or six tries later, the VROOM ceased and the CLICK, CLICK, CLICKING of a dead battery began. “Wonderful,” I thought and headed inside with the intention of working out later in the evening, once Jody could come home and either provide me with transportation or work his magic and get my van running.
Feeling frustrated, and more than a little exacerbated, I prepared myself that much needed cup of coffee and oatmeal, knowing that at that moment the two, combined with some quiet “me” time, would provide me with the necessary comfort to get me through the day. In the course of these preparations, I began to think about comfort, what it means to be comforted or to give comfort, the times I most need to be comforted, the importance of being comforted and giving comfort, and both the small and large things that comfort me on a daily basis.
One of my numerous carnal rules as an English teacher, when writing a paper, is to avoid opening a paragraph with a definition, or using a definition as an attention grabber. Comfort, therefore, is both a verb and a noun, defined by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary as giving strength and hope, or easing the grief and trouble of an individual or group of individuals. It means to cheer or console. Comfort is a strengthening aid, consolation in a time of trouble or worry, a feeling of relief or encouragement. Comfort is also a contented well-being or a satisfying or enjoyable experience. Comfort is a surprisingly powerful word. It is a surprisingly powerful action. It is a surprisingly powerful concept.
I am a person who likes order, organization, and control, not necessarily over other people, but of my thoughts and actions, as well as life’s outcomes. These three traits are both my greatest strengths and my greatest weaknesses. Chaos, messes, and mayhem cause me anxiety, frustration, and anger. Comfort helps me process these feelings, and regain a sense of control and clarity.
As a parent, I find that I am frequently the comforter as opposed to the comforted. An irony, since it is usually I who needs more comfort than Lu as I struggle with feelings of doubt regarding the daily decisions I make for her, for myself, for my relationship, and for my family. It is me who needs comfort as I fight the pure exhaustion that comes from taking care of another’s physical, emotional, mental and spiritual needs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week; and it is me who needs comfort as I try to reign in the complete and utter madness that the presence of a child entails, especially a child as gloriously spirited as mine. With little time and even less energy, the years have taught me how to seek comfort in the smallest gestures of friends, in the smallest items, and in stolen moments with myself.
A trip to Barnes and Noble, a run to Starbucks, and a kind word from a stranger excite me. A shopping trip by myself leaves me euphoric these days, while watching birds fly to and from our bird feeder mesmerizes, and calms, me. Compliments from friends, a warm house, the smell of apple pie baking in the oven, and a hot shower without interruptions all result in a dimpled smile. Running hard with angry chick music blaring on my iphone not only brings me a measure of contentment regarding the shape and size of my body, but produces sun fuzzies in my brain, otherwise known as endorphins. Jody offering to take Lu for an evening or a day makes me feel loved and cared for. A glass of sangria relaxes me and makes me forget about the chaos around me, if just for one evening. Looking at old pictures helps me remember the happy days of my youth, the carefree fun with friends basking in the warm California
I am, admittedly, a Facebook addict. I post frequently, check profiles frequently, and leave comments for my friends frequently. Having now lived in four different states, in four different regions of the United States
