I'm not a greedy person by nature; however, yesterday had me at an all-time low with my wants winning out over my needs. Simply put, I want the new J1 Nikon camera for Mother's Day. It's the new, fun little camera that makes you feel like a pro even if you are far from being one... if ever. Even better, the J1 comes in four different colors (they just came out with a new pink one). I want a white or black one. I can't decide. It's powerful. It can take a photo within a video and can take up to 10 frames-per-second. Try that with any other point-and-shoot camera. It's light with the bonus that it's small enough to carry it in my purse. If I had that camera, then I am sure that I wouldn't miss a moment when documenting Lily's life! It's beautiful, fun, hip and so me and well... I just want one.
Next item of interest. If I am going to ask for the camera, I might as well throw in another item that I've had my eye on for quite some time. Let me start with justifying this want. I am tired of reading by the light of my book light at night. Book light's are so yesterday. It's about time I buy into all this technology and get a Kindle, or rather, have Martin get me a Kindle! If I had a Kindle, I could read when all the lights were out when I couldn't seem to sleep—which is often. I could have thousands of books at my disposal whenever and wherever I end up in the world. It would be stupendous. It would be life-altering. (I get a bit dramatic when it comes to justifying an unnecessary and meaningless gift, as well as, the supposed "gifts" it will bestow on me if in my possession.)
Continuing on my route and realizing I was on a roll, I begin to scheme even more. I mean, if I am going to ask for a camera and a Kindle, then I might as well throw in what I REALLY, REALLY want. What I really want is a new Apple Laptop. I've been hinting around for one for years! If I had that, I know that I would be SO content. Just thinking about it made me feel like I might be able to tap into powers that I probably would never have known I had. In my mind, I could actually feel my hand running over this sleek, revolutionary piece of hardware with it's brushed metal frame and apple logo illuminating my dining room table. I too wanted a tasty bite of this tempting technology. An Apple laptop would be my ultimate nirvana—at least on Mother's Day.
As I sat in my car, justifying Martin's Mother's Day offerings to me, I felt as if every item was well-deserved. After all, I AM the mother to our fabulous little girl. I mean, I do a lot. Right? (Don't answer.) Shifting my shoulders and starting to feel a little discomfort from what I had just said to myself, I thought, "Of course, I do what any mother I know does. It's not all THAT special." Still not completely convinced by the good and sensible me, I thought, "It really would be beneficial to Martin to get me that laptop." Further assessing the magnitude of my mothering skills and the new laptop, I thought, "...and it sure would come in handy with my new J1 Nikon." (I think I want a white one... no, black!)
Still driving, visions of me on Mother's Day surrounded by gift boxes tied up with big red bows began to fill up every corner of my mind. This was MY year! Come Sunday morning, it would all be mine! Of course, before I had a chance to have one iota of self-indulgence, guilt set in as it usually does. Always just in time. After guilt, sanity knocks.
I felt myself slipping down into the driver's seat, ashamed. I knew that I really didn't need any of that stuff. I mean, honestly who does? Will it make my life more meaningful to have more stuff? Will it promise love and affection that Martin and Lily already give unconditionally to me? Will it be THE thing that makes me happy for the rest of my life? No. I know it. We all know it. I have Lily and I have Martin—that's really all that matters to me as a mother and a wife. I have the affection of my husband and the unconditional love of our daughter, Lily. We have warmth, shelter, food at the table and both of our cars are running. More importantly, we have each other and THAT really is enough.
I felt myself slipping down into the driver's seat, ashamed. I knew that I really didn't need any of that stuff. I mean, honestly who does? Will it make my life more meaningful to have more stuff? Will it promise love and affection that Martin and Lily already give unconditionally to me? Will it be THE thing that makes me happy for the rest of my life? No. I know it. We all know it. I have Lily and I have Martin—that's really all that matters to me as a mother and a wife. I have the affection of my husband and the unconditional love of our daughter, Lily. We have warmth, shelter, food at the table and both of our cars are running. More importantly, we have each other and THAT really is enough.
If I am continuing to confess my guilt, truth be told, I have an old camera (by old, I mean, I bought it last year). However, in my defense, I did drop it on our trip in the Himalayas last year. It works just fine. If I squint just enough, I don't see the scratch that the fall left on the lens. Really, I'm probably the only one that notices it.
Then there's the Kindle. Martin and I own the entire set of the Harvard Classics. They sit in our cluttered library full of books just collecting dust. Plus, I just bought a new book light. Maybe I'll just wait until the bulb burns out to moan and cry for that Kindle. Or maybe when I really need it, I'll just get it.
Then there's the Kindle. Martin and I own the entire set of the Harvard Classics. They sit in our cluttered library full of books just collecting dust. Plus, I just bought a new book light. Maybe I'll just wait until the bulb burns out to moan and cry for that Kindle. Or maybe when I really need it, I'll just get it.
There is also the matter of the laptop. You see, I already have one. I'm typing on it right now in the family room. It's about 7+ years old, and it's a PC (insert a slight frown here) but it works. Unfortunately, it works just fine (again, another frown). To add insult to injury, upstairs I have a fast PC with a nice big screen in my office (aka. the laundry room) right next to my new washer and dryer.
Okay, okay... I guess I really don't need any of that stuff. Because really, it's just stuff. I would take being a mother to Lily over what any new fancy camera claims to be or promises to make me become. I would take waking up to Lily each morning to some silly little piece of technology that boasts to download a book in less than 10 seconds. Besides, being a mother to Lily is way cooler than owning some silly computer that is only as creative as I am able to be. Although close to it's promise, it still won't make me a superhero.
Deep down, I know I can do without all these "things" that seem to promise me the moon on a silver platter. Truthfully, if I had everything that my heart desired BUT I didn't have Martin and Lily, my world might just stop. Or worse, it would be lonely and empty, full of "just stuff." My life would have less meaning. Less happiness. Less surprises. Less laughter. Less reasons to capture a moment. Less love. Less tears. Really, less of everything. I guess I could keep living if I had never known Martin and never had Lily, but boy would it be dull if they weren't around. No, there isn't one object that comes to mind in my greedy world that can substitute the joy that being a mother to my little family can bring. Not. One. Thing.
So, I am back to my scratched lens and camera. I guess I should finally delve into my library of actual books and stop whining about my old, but working PC. They are all ENOUGH. Enough to keep me going without a hiccup in life. Enough to keep me satisfied.
I'll take my little girl's tears and bucket of setbacks to any new bright and distracting object. My eye is on course, firmly fixed on my family. I love being a mother and that is quite simply, enough.
So, I am back to my scratched lens and camera. I guess I should finally delve into my library of actual books and stop whining about my old, but working PC. They are all ENOUGH. Enough to keep me going without a hiccup in life. Enough to keep me satisfied.
I'll take my little girl's tears and bucket of setbacks to any new bright and distracting object. My eye is on course, firmly fixed on my family. I love being a mother and that is quite simply, enough.
P.S. I was not paid by Nikon, Amazon or Apple for my shameless desires to own each of their products. I just shamelessly want them.
