Lady of the Flies

Two black flies occupy my house right now. My children brought them home, inviting them to stay with a wide open front door.  “Shut the door!” my constant call of the summer. 

I've tried hunting down the flies like I'm on an African bug safari, but these insects are of superior intelligence.  And fast. The cheetah flies of Hunterdon County, defying my bright green swatter. I swear they have evasive maneuvers that would serve them well in a war zone.

I stand at the kitchen sink rinsing dishes and they bounce against the window pane. When I cook dinner, work on the computer or sit at the table, making a to-do list, a fly passes from the living room into the kitchen. I write Kill Flies on my list. It's a wonder I have yet to be bugged when I'm sleeping.

When the kids were too little to leave the house without me, we rarely had an unwelcome insect. I had complete control over the front and back doors. If a fly should make it inside, I'd stop whatever I was doing to squish it, cleaning it up with a wad of toilet paper. I even flushed it down the toilet. (What's the point of that? Kill it twice?) 

This is the first summer all four have been in and out of the house, to run outside to play in their fort or swing set, only to come back inside for Kool-aid, snack or whatever the whim may be at the moment. As fast as a summer thunder storm moves across the sky, my kids go outside and turn around to come back in to do something else. The door opens. It shuts. It opens again – and too often it isn't shut until I bellow a reminder.

With kids you get flies - and plastic doll house furniture scattered in the living room, sand on the sofa cushions, Lego's in the hallway, and a tiny green Monopoly house left on the dining room carpet to step on barefoot. Fingerprints on the walls. I'm not going to say a word about my car, other than the drive-thu could not have been conceived by a mother. 

When my first was still a baby, I read magazines for house decorating ideas. Magazines with a kitchen  clean as if it's never used, a master bedroom with coordinating pillows to match the smooth duvet cover. A photograph labeled mudroom was organized and pretty, devoid of any dirt, grit or mud.  The white denim fabric sofa cushions, so trendy back then, in it's proper place ready for you to sit down.   

You didn't see many flies featured in those glossy pages.

Now I flop on my faded couch after a full day of on-the-go summer fun, the kids in bed. Plastic ponies with tangled manes lay in a heap on the floor, wooden puzzles under the coffee table. One of our flies buzzes near the TV screen.  A few years ago, I would have jumped up to grab the fly swatter, not satisfied until I had killed it. But this time, I ignore it. Tonight I'll let the fly live a little bit longer.

An original New Jersey Moms Blog post. The praying mantis is Monica Brand's favorite insect. Monica writes about home schooling, books and faith at her blog, Paper Bridges.