Stressed from having woken up again alone because Sloan left in the middle of the night to go to Chicago. He was supposed to be home the entire week this week. Apparently, his client did not quite get that it was wife week.
Stressed from Grace having recently been diagnosed with Asthma (brought on by the 100+ temps) and now having to stay indoors all the time with my two kids who are driving me insane. Literally insane. I've heard tale of parents threatening to sell their kids to gypsies if they misbehaved. Where are these gypsies and what sort of deals are they working?
Stressed from having to
Stressed because I do not like having to wait until the last minute to do things and no one seems to think like this and so I haven't gotten articles for the August Bethany Newsletter until yesterday. Which wouldn't be so bad if I also didn't have work to do for my other boss now having been on a forced two week hiatus because an agent wanted some alone time with the manuscript. And forced two week hiatuses don't come with pay.
Stressed because Henry, who I once had to put in speech therapy, will not shut up. If he sees it, he tells me about it. And if I do not respond to him, he just says it over and over again. "There's a construction site. There's a construction site. There's a construction site." So I've become a regular Dave Hester just shouting "Yeaaaahp!" every now and again to pacify him. I've tried explaining that simply because he sees something does not warrant an exclamation. If he tells me one more time about the shoe on the side of the road on the way home from the gym I'm going to shoot myself.
Now, before you go commenting to tell me to hang in there and the like or commiserate with me because "you don't know how I do it with a husband who is gone all the time." Let me say a few things.
1. God is gracious to me in that the reason I can "do it" with my husband traveling all the time is because I'm not given any choice. And also, you should really wipe that judging look off of your face. While I love feeling sorry for myself, I don't want you to feel sorry for me. It normally works well. I'm just out of sorts a bit because this week's trip was a surprise and I do not like surprises.
2. I get it. It's part of adulthood. And it just plain stinks some time. I don't want to put on my big girl panties and cook dinner and clip coupons and fold 300,000 loads of laundry and wipe asses and noses all day long. I want to wake up well rested with a fully stocked fridge full of sodas with real brand names that aren't Dr. Thunder or Sam's Choice. I want to go to a restaurant at lunch and order a fancy meal with the some type of fruit chutney on the side. I want to actually leave my house to go to work so that at night I can relax or clean the house or heck, even fold that laundry, or perhaps, be with my husband when he's home rather than having to be on my laptop.
That, to be honest, is a REAL struggle. I'm coming head to head that maybe I don't want to stay at home with the kids, but I also don't want to miss things like Kindermusik and carpool. And were I to get a job, all of the paycheck would be going towards childcare. And it seems silly to go to work just to break even. I can make no money right here at home. Oh, wait, that IS what I'm doing...
3. I should stop whining about the waking up alone part. Because Sloan would rather be here. I have friends who long for husbands, either future ones or ones who left, and I should just shut up.
4. And here's the real rub... it has become painfully clear that I've been attempting to parent and love my husband out of my own strength. And I just can't. And that pisses me off. I would prefer to be God, not need God. And even when I do recognize that I need God, it seems to me that what I want is not more of Him, but more of ease. In frustration, I'm pretending as if He's left me here to fend for myself. As if He has sold me to the gypsies.
But that is just not the case.
He has not left me here as an orphan. He has come for me. And is coming for me. And is with me now.
I'd like to say that the very knowledge of that, and repentance of all that other BS has made things peachy keen.
It has not.
It's just made me less angry. Less hard. Which, I suppose, is the first step toward receiving God's grace.
5. When faced with a pity party, it helps if your husband calls from Chicago to tell you his front crown has broken in half and that he is now in Illinois with a tooth missing like some hillbilly. A hillbilly with meetings this evening and all day tomorrow. I'm hoping he'll post the pics of his smile on Facebook. It has made me laugh all afternoon just thinking about it. Good thing my Dad is a dentist.
2 comments:
Dude. I get it. And I love how you turned it all around and still accepted that sometimes? It's totally okay to complain... I won't put in any "hang in theres" or stuff like that... even though I totally want to.
I wrote a bunch of comisseration stuff, but then deleted it. The way you've described your process of grappling with God and your sin and His grace feels very familiar to me.
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