Wednesday, April 10, 2013


I struggled, today. It was my second in a row without a vehicle, and maybe I wouldn't have gone anywhere, anyway, but I detest feeling stuck. I know that about myself and should've encouraged Jim to have his truck towed two days ago, but $200! for a new key! There are so very many other ways I'd rather spend $200!

(Jim's keys have been lost since Friday. They've probably been lost for a week longer, actually, but we noticed and started looking for them on Friday.)

So I felt stuck, today, because Jim had my vehicle. Also, Charleigh's been plucking my last nerve: just typical two-year-old stuff, but Grrrr! Not an hour after I gave her a bath, this morning, she drew all over her legs with a purple marker. Later, she rubbed sand in her hair and banged on the glass panes of the back door with a plastic baseball bat. She's sassy and defiant and, you know, two.

Doctor JoAnn and I talked, once, about how easy it can be to lose perspective as a stay-at-home mom. I felt it happening at different points, today. At the (literal) point of the purple marker, sure, but also when I took note of how much (let's just call it what it was) trash was on the living room carpet, which I'd just vacuumed, yesterday.

I practiced repeating the words JoAnn gave me: It's not real. They sort of helped. I forced myself to remember: my prayers have been answered. Baby Chip and Baby Aubrie are here; my brother's doing better; Faye's nodules disappeared. I considered how blessed I am to have a vehicle for my husband to use, a two-year-old to try her best to drive me to drinking, and a house for my children to trash. In my mind, I tried to relive our (dreamy) spring break.

I still yelled a little.

And, when Jim got home, I told him I needed a minute. Chip and I dropped Cade at Scouts and fled to Target, where I tried on four too-small items. It was still good medicine, and I missed Charleigh in about an hour. I think I'll recommend Target to Doctor JoAnn. Love her.



  1. I am so glad to hear your brother is doing better. I'd have a hard time with the plastic bat on the glass, too. Your pal JoAnn sounds like a wise woman. These days may seem long, but they fly by.

  2. awwwwwwwwwwww.
    Love you. Target is the bomb diggity. I was just reading Phillipians telling myself to pray instead of be anxious. What am I anxious about? Oh, I have to bring donuts to Q's pre k class. I know. tough. Obviously everything can stress me out.

  3. TARGET in my world is pronounced "tar-jay" ......... you know.... its a bit upscale for my thrifty self....... and i find complete luxuries there.......except shoes no shoes from tar-jay.....but clothing, household items oh yea babe....... love it , great retail therapy and if you learn to scope out the endcaps and the cell phone text coupons you get even more! glad you found my TAR-JAY girl,and sorry you were "stuck" but these days I am 'sticking' myself in time out and staying stuck on purpose to save gas and money. BTW you are more than welcome to unload two little girls with me anytime for a playdate in my "stuck" house so that you can get some "freedom" to fly with baby chip only in tow and ......then maybe bring us a picnic on your way back from TARJAY with your treasures...... :) just saying

  4. Now I'm definitely one that loses my keys way more often than I like to admit :)

  5. The only way I survived those hard little years were to get out of the house every day. No wonder you've struggled. Love you friend. I think you are the most patient mom I know.

  6. Oh my...I got my two boys when they were 16 and 20, by marrying their dad. When I think I really missed not having children of my own, I read stories like yours! LOL Two-year olds can try your patience, for sure, but I have no experience or advice!! When you are ready for drinking parties and auto accidents...maybe I can help! ;)

  7. You and Doctor JoAnn are both so wise.
    Today went pretty well around here - actually really well - until 20 minutes before I was about to head out the door (childless -hallelujah) I yelled. Big yell. Ugh. But tomorrow is a new day - and I will remember (I hope) perspective.