But Wait, There’s More!

Apparently, I have set out to kill myself this week.  Yes, I know that sounds very dramatic, and to some people, it will probably seem that way.  However, for me, it feels like I have some deep-seated emotions against myself this week and did everything I could to ruin the week and put myself in harm’s way. There just always seemed to be more!

I am beginning to feel like I am living in the twilight zone, where everything feels very much like reality, but is it really?

Let me explain.  This week, school started.  My son was so excited that he had such a hard time settling down on Sunday night to go to sleep.  After getting him down, I felt prepared for the week.  I was headed to bed early.  I had prepped everything ahead.  We had all gotten showers; I had all of our clothes laid out, lunches packed, and breakfast prepped for the next morning.  I even went ahead and filled my coffee pot with water and grounds so that all I had to do was turn it on once I came out of my room from getting ready.

Oh, but little did I know what was in store for me.  Sure, I went to bed early, but I woke up at 12:20 a.m., burning up.  My first thought was, “GREAT!  My hormones have decided to act up.”  I picked up my phone to check the air (we have one of those fancy thermostats that allows us to control it from our phone).  No wonder I was hot!  The air was turned up, not down.  I turned it down, put my mask back on (yep, I’m one of those), and tried to drift off to sleep.  Only to realize that my body registered the sleep I had gotten as a nap.

WONDERFUL!!!

I just laid there.  I was determined to go back to sleep.  Eventually I did, but not before the dog decided it was time to go outside—at 2:30 a.m. and then again at 3:45 a.m. My alarm went off at 4:30 a.m., and I knew I was going to be tired.  I got ready, headed to the kitchen, and turned on the coffee pot.  While waiting, I started on my normal breakfast: bacon, eggs, and toast.

That’s when I realized the coffee pot wasn’t brewing.

I will be very honest here.  I was in denial.  I thought it was just something I did.  I figured I had failed to put water in.  I checked it, and sure enough, there it was.  I jiggled the coffee pot around, turned it off, and then turned it back on several times, and I even unplugged it from the wall.  Nothing happened.

I decided that I wasn’t going to let it defeat me, so I grabbed our French press.  As I put water in the kettle, I realized my bacon was burning, as was my toast.  My precious Kamut sourdough bread, which I was running low of and still waiting on my flour to arrive, was now extremely crispy.  Yet, that didn’t stop me.  I pushed on through and ate the burnt bacon and toast with my eggs and French press coffee (which was delicious—the coffee, that is).

But wait, there’s more!

That same day, on the way to school, I got about a fourth of the way from home; we live 45 minutes away, and I realized that I had forgotten my lunch.  Only to continue to school at a 50-mile per hour rate, with no way to pass, and realize that I didn’t take a single first-day picture of my kids.

What kind of mother am I!?

After school that afternoon, my son came running in and said, “There are ants all in the car!”  I just looked at him.  What in the world now?  Then it hit me.  I had bought the kids donuts for their first day that morning, and I just knew he had left them in the car.  My assumptions were right, and they were all over the bag.

I did survive the day, by the grace of God.  I came home that evening, ate supper, got everything ready for the next day, and crashed.  I knew the next day had to get better.  It did.  But I found out my Kamut order still hadn’t shipped, and I only had enough toast to last two more days.  At least my bacon and toast weren’t burned, and I still had my French press to rely on.

Wednesday started out better, and I was able to get in my early morning quiet time.  However, that evening, exhaustion was starting to set in.  During school, this particular day is always the hardest.  We remain at the school all day and go to church that evening.  Basically, it is our home away from home during this time of the year.  That means we are getting home later than usual.  It’s okay though.  It is worth the sacrifice.  However, it does mean that it is harder to get up on Thursday mornings.

After school on Thursday, we made it home safe and sound.  I pulled in the driveway and decided to go check in on my little garden.  I was so excited to find corn!  I pulled it off and suddenly realized something was stinging my food—ants.  I got them off me and continued back towards the house.  While my husband was gone with my son to karate, I planned on throwing some supper together.  I put the corn in a pot, turned on the stove, and then exhaustion took over.  I figured the corn would be okay while I went outside and set on the swing.  It was such a pretty afternoon.

I sat on the swing and listened as my daughter rode her four-wheeler.  She came back with some pretty flowers just because she knew I was tired.  After a little bit, I decided I had better go in and check on the corn.

SMOKE!!

My house was full of smoke.  My first thought was that the pan had gone dry and was burning my corn.  I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw the handle of a spatula (we won’t point any fingers at who left it there) melting on the eye of the stove.  I quickly removed it, threw it in the sink, and turned off the eye.  I had turned on the wrong eye.

That’s it!  I was done.  I refused to touch anything more.

I turned on the correct eye and told my daughter that I was going to get a shower.  I hoped it might help.  It did for the moment.  I fell asleep.

But wait, there’s more!

Today, which is Friday, is the day I realized I’ve had it in for myself.  I spent most of the day teaching my son how to drive our four-wheeler.  I came back in and proceeded to start laundry and clean our master bathroom.  Everything was going great UNTIL…..

See, there is something you need to know right at this moment.  My house, as I have stated before, is in the process of being worked on.  Slowly, as we can afford it.  Recently, a piece of the cabinet fell out, and I tried fixing it, but it requires someone with more knowledge than me.  So, I told my husband.

**NOTE: I “told” my husband.

Well, that piece has been off for about a month.  I’m okay with it.  I didn’t really know its importance.  I just figured it was there for decoration.  It is located between the faux drawer and the cabinet door that opens at the bottom.  However, this piece was apparently important.

I had placed bleach in the toilet earlier to sit while I cleaned the shower.  So, I grabbed my handy toilet wand and started to clean when I realized I had failed to put in the bowl cleaner that goes under the rim.  I reached under the sink to grab it when the faux drawer fell and the corner landed in the quick of my big toe.

I screamed!  I felt the pain all the way up my leg.  I just knew I was going to have blood flowing everywhere.  I got out of the bathroom as quickly as I could to find a chair, calling for my daughter to bring me a band-aid while my son was following me and asking me if I was okay.

Now, some of you know me really well, and others may not know this side of me.  In that moment, all I wanted to do was yell at my husband about that goofy, supposedly unimportant piece of cabinet.  I was hurting and as mad as a hornet.  Yet, I remained calm (this is the part where I am working on myself) and asked my daughter to text her dad to get the hammer and some nails and fix it.

But wait, there’s more!

I finally got the pain under control and headed back to the bathroom.  I needed to finish cleaning the toilet after all.  My son followed along, asking me if I was okay.  I told him I was fine and continued where I left off.  I squirted the bowl cleaner under the rim and began scrubbing with my wand.

Suddenly, my son says, “Mom, that stinks.”  I explained that I had put bleach in the toilet, and that’s probably what he was smelling.  Then the smell suddenly got stronger, and I began smelling that ammonia smell.  I just told him to run.

I had caused a chemical reaction!

Good grief!  Everything that I was cleaning with had bleach in it, but apparently there was something else in there that caused a reaction.  I quickly flushed the toilet and started working on getting the window open.  I couldn’t get the crazy thing open!  Then, when that one opened, I realized they were double-pane windows, so I had to open the next one.  I couldn’t get the buttons to move.  They were stuck.

I’m about out of breath by this time.  I had been holding it for as long as I could. Remember me saying I’ve been fighting bronchitis for a month?  I literally thought I was going to die.

But wait, there’s more!

I finally got the second pane opened and started out of the bathroom when I heard it fall back closed.  I had to go back in there and fight to get it to remain open.  It finally stayed.

You know that Scripture in James where he says, “Count it all joy when you fall into divers temptations (James 1:2)?”  Well, I feel like I have done that this week.  Now that all of this is behind me, I have laughed at each and every thing.  I know that we are all going to have those days, weeks, or months—maybe even a year—of trials in life.  Yet, I want God to know that I am going to do my best to “count it all joy”, even if there is more to come.

I sure hope that I have helped you laugh at all of my calamities.  Maybe it will help you look at what you are going through with joy.  In the meantime, I’m not going to touch a single thing until I have found out what issue I have with myself so that I can settle it once and for all.

...weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. Psalm 30:5 KJV