Snapping turtle philosophy

There are moments, I tell you, when you feel life is futile. Case in point:

Me: "Don't let the cat out!"

Kids: "Yes mom."

Me, a few minutes later as the kids come in and out of the house 600 times for no reason: "Remember not to let the cat out! We're not back until tomorrow night, she won't like it if she's stuck outside."

Kids: "Yes mom."

Kids, a few minutes later: "Mom! Bec accidentally let the cat out!"

Sigh. And don't get me started on trying to keep the kitchen (or any part of the house, for that matter) clean-ish. Every now and then I do a thorough job of tidying up and cleaning and the place is sparkling and within minutes of people getting out of bed it's a mess again.

And what about the constant repeating, the incessant nagging to please not talk with your mouth open, make your bed, pick up your bag, don't be late, clean the cat litter, did you remember to vacuum the rug? It's like a treadmill, except more pointless.

But then, every spring, I am confronted by my snapping turtle. She comes around to lay eggs on top of my septic sand. She spends about 36 hours slowly digging and laying and burying. Turtles don't get their reputations from nowhere; it's a painfully slow process. Then eventually she goes back to the lake... and within hours the porcupines have eaten all the eggs. They leave a mess of broken shells behind along with some yolk (yeah, ew) and thoroughly destroy all that turtle's slow and laborious work.

Yet every year she comes back to do it again. The picture above is from this morning. She's looking at me with a somewhat unfriendly eye, but (call me crazy) I see defiance in there too. She's going to keep doing her thing because that's what she does.

I wonder sometimes if we don't ask ourselves too many questions about the point of life and our purpose here on earth. I mean, it's fine to have goals and ambitions and to strive to be the best you can be. But at the same time, a lot of what we necessarily have to do is horrendously pointless.

Maybe I just have to find a patch of sandy soil somewhere inside my soul and be more like my ugly turtle...

Whatever you do, never rise to a crescendo

Beating the blahs, the scale, and the late-night snacks