pushing up the boulder of sisyphus

Sometimes that's what it feels like to take care of a place in dusty-aired China. If I ever live in the States again, I will never complain about doing dishes. It would be a luxury to not have to bend over a tiny sink and meticulously attempt to soap and wash everything without water dripping all over the floor so that I have to mop up and wash my feet after every session. And a washer and dryer! These contraptions, once taken so for granted, now seem like sci-fi magic-ma-jigs that maybe I'll get to experience again in the year 2040 when technology becomes more advanced. Once my son becomes potty-trained, this part should become easier. I wonder when that will be.

To rub salt into this (not really) wound, the many young working professionals (read: single and without children) often call me with fairly last-minute requests to help teach or do things since they figured I have nothing to do all day except "just watching the kid." This is true, in general, except their tone seems to convey their belief that this is somehow an idyllic vacation that I'm living:

"So, what else do you do all day besides looking after your son?"

"Hm... That's basically what I do all day."

"Oh, that's it?"

I could go into details about what that consists of, but I do recall to my shame that I pretty much felt as they did before I started babysitting a lot for my now-goddaughter and her sister.

Oh wellz. I don't need anyone's approval or understanding but God's. So after planning and leading my small group through our activity night, still trying to find time and energy to translate for a friend's dad's factory, and leading a group to visit the orphan's hospital tomorrow, I think it's all right if I said no to something I'm not really all that good at anyway last night, right? Yes. Let me get off this performance treadmill.