Boys Will Be Boys
Nana camp is an invitation only event. My mother-in-law takes all of her grandchildren for a week of crafts, activities and general grandparent indulgence. This year while Max and Lucy traveled to Nana camp Harper and I took our first plane ride up to Michigan to visit my parents. My parents have yet to see Harper and so we took this opportunity to introduce them to their seventh grandchild. This left David home by himself. FOR A WHOLE WEEK.
During his unexpected bachelor time he decided to do some home improvement projects. While I was envisioning the hanging of shelves or the painting of walls, he envisioned maybe hanging a picture and going fishing. Now, he did hang the pictures in the kitchen and I am incredibly grateful for that. However, this is what I found sitting on my kitchen counter when I returned:
This is a phenomenon. Most women I talk to speak of the same occurrence in their household. A home improvement is FINALLY completed only to be left with a table/counter full of tools. I’ve actually waited to see how long it would take David to put the tools away and the longest I’ve been able to hold out was four months. His argument? He is planning on still using those tools to do another project. Where? When? What? Nobody knows, but someday he will need those tools again and it would be so much more convenient to use them if they just sat on the kitchen counter until then.
Even though Max was the only boy at Nana camp with a plethora of female cousins he managed to have a great time swimming, fishing and playing in the air conditioning (he wasn’t so keen on playing outside and being hot). He also left me a little surprise on the kitchen counter:
Max gleefully explained to me that he made a “brown snowman”. So very thoughtful of him to bring me back such a sweet homemade gift from camp.
Ahhh boys, you gotta love ‘em.
Plans: Part II
Hi.
Yeah, so life has been a bit…crazy? No, that seems cliche. Overwhelming? Surprising? Unplanned? Yes, I suppose all of those things. I’m a person in transition and well, a person who likes plans definitely doesn’t like transitions. I couldn’t be more uncomfortable right now if I was wearing a coat made out of human skin. The other day David sent me the following text message: “When shit gets real you’re the person I want to be with”. The shit has most definitely been real lately.
David quit his job. We then spent the next three weeks in a heavenly bliss of unemployment. A mini-vacation into Hakuna Matata world where everything seemed like a giant rainbow and bluebirds were singing on our shoulders. However, contrary to popular belief you really can’t pay the mortgage with singing bluebirds. ( know, who could have guessed that?) David got a new job and I went back to teaching.
Sigh.
David’s new job has definite advantages, including a 15 minute commute (this is much better from the 1 hour commute he’s had for the past 8 years of our marriage). He has returned to working with some dear friends and that is always nice. However, it is still work and it is still advertising and so that still means long nights and big projects. We’re adjusting.
We’re still living in a house that is in transition and at the end of the day I think this is driving me crazy more than anything else. I have books stacked — EVERYWHERE (#1 problem faced by English majors and teachers around the world: book storage. We don’t ever get rid of them). I have boxes packed and stacked and the garage is a tumbled combination of new, old and garbage. Every room screams for a new piece of furniture, artwork, carpet or now a cleaning. Every wall is blank, every window bare, and I desperately want order.
David wistfully mentioned to me how much easier our lives would be if we didn’t have children. Indeed, life would be simple. My house would always be in order and clean. We would always have enough money. David and I would always have time to talk about subjects and things that interest us. As we both laid in bed and reflected on that alternative universe the selfishness of it all made me sick to my stomach. I recognize that many people are very happy being childless. I, however, could never be one of those people.
My house is chaos, but that is because it is bursting with life. That much life cannot be neatly contained. Life must overflow, squeeze out around the corners and fill every crack and crevice. There will be enough time at the end of my life to enjoy a clean kitchen. For now, I’m just going to kick the Hot Wheels out of the way, toss the Barbies off the kitchen table and sit in the moment.
(editor’s note: I wrote this post about three months ago. I suppose it is a reflection of how truly chaotic things have been that I’m only now getting around to publishing it. However, I liked this post, and I feel that it truly captures what my summer was like).
The Clouds Start To Part
You wake up one morning and it feels like somebody has rearranged your bedroom while you slept. Something is different but you aren’t quite sure what has been moved. You feel different. A good different. Suddenly getting out of bed seems possible. That pile of dishes in the sink? Not really that big of a deal. And you realize, for the first time, the clouds are parting. The anti-depressant medication is working. You can breathe again and I do. I breathe deep and long. I tentatively step back into my life like a skittish cat escaping from a box. The depression this time around has been dark, very, very dark. The hopelessness and sadness smothered me and I wasn’t sure I would find my way out, but I am making my way.
It has been hard enough dealing with the sadness but David and I have had so much more on our plate. The new house, the new baby, work problems, and all that stress has stretched our marriage as far as it can go. At some point when so much is piled on, you can’t help but eventually turn on each other. At times it has felt like David and I have been hanging off a cliff and the only thing preventing us from falling off is that God and family have a firm hold of our heels.
We’re not out of the woods – not yet. We haven’t quite made it over the top of the mountain but we can see the top. In the meantime our family has run ahead of us and reached a hand down to help us along. That is what family does. I find myself repeating again, again from Lucy’s ABC Bible Verses “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding” – Proverbs 3:5 I don’t know why so much change and turmoil has come upon us at the same time but it has. What I do know is that all this conflict has forced David and I to take a hard look at our life and path. Sometimes in order for you to make a dramatic change in your life you need dramatic conflict. I will not and cannot lean on my own understanding and so faith is all I have left.
