Martha Doesn’t Live Here

You know Martha…That woman we all secretly aspire to be, to a certain degree, yet harbor disdain for at the same time. You know you’ve done it…wrapped your Christmas packages with tissue paper, tulle, and gold ribbon just that once. C’mon, I know you have. Then you roll your eyes at the mention of her name and say to friends when she mentions saffron and radicchio, again, “Get real! Who cooks like that?” Then you quickly follow up with a qualifier like, “Oh sure I could make that fourteen story gingerbread castle for my son’s school Christmas party, if I had her staff. But I don’t.” So you don’t.

I was confronted with one of these Martha moments at a Halloween party hosted for kids in our community. A group of mothers was standing around grinning at all the children decked out in their costumes, when what should appear, but a small robot. Actually it was a child in a robot costume, but it could have passed for a small miniature of the robot on “Lost in Space” I turned to the other women who were staring slightly open mouthed at this creation and glibly joked, “Obviously Martha is in the building.” This drew giggles and agreement that there was clearly some over achiever in the building.

I began to wish my son had gone with his original costume choice – a pinecone. How was he going to compete in a store bought costume? He has always chosen rather unique costumes for Halloween. His first time out he wanted to be a banana, so I whipped up a banana costume complete with a stem, label sticker, and matching spats for his shoes. Then he wanted to be a piece of cheese. The square slice kind, mind you. He was a lovely shade of golden yellow, complete with Swiss cheese style spots and a matching hat, with “The Big Cheese” sewn across the chest. He had already decided the day after being cheese that he was going to be a pinecone. I wondered how I would meet this, my toughest costuming challenge to date.

As Halloween approached, my son surprised us and changed his mind. He was a big boy and wanted to be something scary this year, a vampire. So off we went to buy the face paints and teeth to transform our little darling into a creepy ghoul. Upon arriving at the store, he decided vampires were a bit scarier than he thought, and decided he should be something else. He liked the glittering witch’s wand and the idea of being magic. However, being a witch was too “girlie.” So, he decided to jump right into that monster of mass marketing with both feet and be Harry Potter. Harry was magic and he was a boy. Well, that worked. I didn’t have to make a costume and felt like I had gotten off easy this year. While I lamented my little boy was growing up, I felt a bit relieved that I had dodged sewing into the wee hours. That is, until the robot showed up.

Standing in the local community center gymnasium, it hit me. I was supposed to be the over-achiever. Not this other as yet undiscovered Martha wannabe. I had been usurped. That was why I had made the Martha joke. I felt myself begin to sweat. My son had gotten used to winning best overall costume. What if he came up empty-handed this year? Before we left the house for the party, my son had remarked with his five-year-old confidence, “I’m going to win best costume again this year.” I had tried to prepare him for the possibility that he may not win, certain that there would be an entire herd of Harrys, but he was not to be dissuaded.

And now here was the robot. Complete with flexible ridged tubular arms, blinking lights, and a control panel. This would never do. The mothers began to concede that this costume was in fact, pretty amazing. “How did they get those lights to light up?” marveled one. “Battery powered Christmas lights!” I snapped. “Ohhhh, and look at the little arms,” another cooed. “Flexible dryer venting,” I sighed. “Look at the flashing strobe on his head,” one exclaimed. “A bicycle light from the bucket on the counter next to the cash register at the local hardware store,” I mumbled dejectedly to no one in particular by this point. Why hadn’t I seen it coming? I had let down my guard, slacked off on my motherly duties. “Why hadn’t I encouraged my son to be a pinecone this year, like he had originally planned?” Dejectedly, I headed for the bleachers with the other moms to watch the festivities. Then I snatched a glimpse of my son, playing with friends, happily waving his wand, laughing and playing tag. “That’s why,” I smiled to myself. Because it made him happy.

He was perfectly satisfied with his costume, and he was having fun. I looked for the little robot, who was standing alone tugging at the box on his head with arms that wouldn’t bend the right way. He didn’t appear to be having any fun at all. “Poor little guy,” I thought. Then we discovered the creator of this masterpiece sitting nearby in the bleachers. After profusely complimenting her on her creativity, one of the mothers asked where she had gotten the idea. “Martha Stewart had the plans in her magazine,” she answered. Hoots of laughter erupted from the group as they all turned to me and said, “You knew! You were right all along.” Then I realized that yes indeed, I had been right all along. My son was happy. And you know what? It appears that a smile can be quite an effective adornment to whatever you’re wearing. My son won best costume for his age group after all.

So many times we obsess about what other people will think. We overextend ourselves with our time. How often have you told someone you will do something, only to start muttering cynically about it the moment you hang up the phone. You don’t have the time to get all your own things done, much less this other thing you’ve been roped into that you really don’t want to do anyway? Why did you say you’d do it? What would they think if you said no?

We overload our physical resources. Have you ever arrived at the end of your day, exhausted and counting the minutes until you can crawl into your bed? You find yourself snapping at your kids when they aren’t moving fast enough in the direction of bedtime. “No I can’t read another story…Pick up those toys! I’m not telling you again to brush your teeth, do you understand me?” You find yourself trying to nail down just exactly when it was you last had a good night’s sleep, let alone several in a row.

We also overburden our pocketbooks in order to keep up with the Joneses, buying things we don’t really need. Sure it would be nice to have a new car like the guy at work, but mine is still in good shape. Then you think to yourself, “Hey, he just got a new car a couple years ago,” and you find yourself cruising the car lot wondering why you didn’t drag your clunker in to trade years ago.

What would people think if you said no once in a while? What would people think if your kids weren’t involved in every extracurricular activity and you didn’t belong to all those clubs you really don’t have time for? What if you didn’t bring work home and stay up burning the midnight oil? Heaven forbid your children don’t have those $100 tennis shoes that everyone else is wearing, or you drive a car not made in the last two years, let alone in this decade.

What would people think if you actually volunteered to do something gratefully? What if you spent more time with your family and got to really know what was going on with your kids and your spouse? What if you got a good night’s sleep, nearly every night? What if your car lasted another ten years?

Do you know what makes these two sets of “what if’s” different? The first set is all about what everyone else thinks. The second one is all about how you feel. God gave us a brain to think with, but most importantly, he gave us a heart to feel with. When you use your brain in conjunction with your heart, you are acting out of love and giving freely of the best of yourself. I feel that is how He intended it to be, though you may think I’m wrong.