Photo: Black-eyed Susans!!! In my neck of the woods? Had to stop what I was doing to take a picture of these beauties! There are some things that just make you stop and miss home, and these certainly do! Gonna try to find some seas so that I can grow these little babies in a garden of my own next year…
Was I a woman who went to church yesterday?
Hmm… I guess I was. But I wasn’t terribly prayerful because I was staring at my phone for most of the service waiting for a text from the 16 year-old girl who was babysitting the boys in the basement “nursery” telling me to come get my little hellians.
I’m not joking. I went through the motions of church, and peaked over at my cell phone about every 3 minutes to make sure I didn’t have a text message. Whenever I heard children in the back of the sanctuary, I’d look back nervously convinced that it was my two boys being dragged back to me because they destroyed something downstairs.
It wasn’t a good look.
I still got my weekly body and blood, so… that counts for something, right?
I know that during Lent I’d been threatening to go to church and there was much interesting discussion about it (online and offline!). The Husband finally settled on one and it is a beautiful little church and community not far from where we live. The building is new and contemporary, but with great care given to giving it old and warm details that someone who loves “traditional” old churches would love to see: like dark wood beams and stained-glass windows and a baptismal font at the entrance (that looked like it was saved from another church somewhere or sometime ago), and a hand-carved wooden alter with all the details you would want to see… But it also had air-conditioning and newer lighting and probably a sound system and some other jazz… And there were nice folk there who greeted us warmly (in a signature New England kind of way–a handshake, a smile, a ‘good morning,’ but usually not a name or an inquiry into what yours might be. Believe me when I tell you that that is way more than you would get in any other circumstance!).
That is really all that I can say about it. It was an otherwise unremarkable place– the two rectors, while young and enthusiastic, didn’t say anything that particularly struck me or made me thoughtful in any way. I will give props for one part, though: During the Prayers of the People, a few interesting ones were added, like prayers for those who are the working poor, prayers for those who are so rich that they have too much (and we prayed that they would choose to give more) and prayers for journalists, doctors and peacekeepers.
I spent my time thinking, this is nice, but… and then I mentally let out a yawn.
Of course, The Husband asked how I liked it and…
I didn’t lie, per se, when I told him that it was “nice” and “I’ll give it another chance or two.” I can tell you now, though, that I already feel like this is going to become a chore. I’d rather stay home and watch CBS Sunday Morning, drink my coffee, and ponder of my own time and will. He doesn’t need that right now. He does seem to like it, and seems to have found what he was looking for in it. My husband really needs a time of peace and reflection. I respect that. I hope that I can find some sort of incentive to keep going. “Nice” isn’t really enough to get me out of bed, I’m sorry to say.
But back to the boys for a second: My God, when does school start? Am I really 7 days away from my first normal week of school???? Please, Lord, let me make it! (Probably should have prayed that prayer in the building yesterday!)
We’re all sick of each other. It’s like they don’t even hear me anymore. I can talk and talk, and ask and ask, and scream and yell until I’m blue in the face and they have pretty much successfully tuned me out. They look at me, they say they understand, and then they immediately go back to doing whatever I don’t want them to do! And they are doing the same thing to daddy (who is really losing patience with it) and we are doing the same thing with them. There are so many things about this summer that I wish could have gone differently, and the biggest change for next year is that little boys will go to daycamp for at least one week. Our budget is tight, for sure, and I’ll have to give up something, but it will be worth every single penny to have the boys out of the house, bothering someone else for just a little bit of time over the summer.
So anyway, that’s why I was staring at my phone waiting for a text message. I figured, if they aren’t listening to me at home, they’ve probably fallen out of the habit of listening to other adults. Especially little teenagers who they don’t know. So I asked that young lady five different ways what hell my children wrought upon her that morning while I was receiving absolution upstairs, and she answered each time that they were “great,” that they played well, that they followed directions. The only bad thing that I noticed is that somewhere along the way, Minor got a poopie diaper and was stinkin’ up the joint.
So I guess that means that they are invited back! And that maybe they aren’t so bad… we’re just all sick of each other. It’s been a long summer, ya’ll. I’m grateful for Fall. Matter of fact, I baked two loaves of bread in celebration this morning! (Partially to warm up the house! It was in the lower 50s this morning when we woke up!!)
In interesting news, if anyone is wondering about the blow-up fall-out from last week, Mother-in-law told The Husband that she would be sending me an email this week to talk about what happened. Told him that “[she and I] have different sets of expectations,” that she wants to “improve our relationship” somehow. The Husband told her that she could start by not being passive aggressive and rude when she visits. He said that she “wasn’t receptive” to that because she “doesn’t quite understand” what she did wrong. So, you know, that pretty much means that whatever overture she makes is going to be dead on arrival. I’ve decided that I’m keeping a hard line on this: I won’t accept a narrative where she sees herself as victim. If stuff doesn’t start out as “I was rude and out of line and I’m sorry,” then I’m going to take her to task. I’ll keep teachin’ ’til she learns.
In strange news, in my father-in-law’s stress and anguish over the situation, he decided to shave off his beard.
Is that as weird to you as it is to me? This conflict does not directly involve him, he’s a man in his 60’s, and his reaction to it is a choice to alter himself in such a way. I’ve never heard of such a thing. It’s strange… and a little frightening. Did I choose the right man from the wrong genetic pool?
Anyway, if it surfaces, I’ll share it. We’ll see what happens from here. Good thing a priest absolved me of all my sins from last week!
See you Wednesday!