Wednesday Night

6 03 2008

Neal took the kids to church…. peace reigneth.

I am now friends with five women named Lisa.  I spent ten minutes talking to a woman today thinking she was Lisa #4, only to discover she was Lisa #5.  I hope I didn’t sound like a brainless idiot.  I was doing the conversational equivalent of smiling and nodding: “So how have you been?  I’ve been praying for you.  How’s your family?  Yes, I’d love to get together.  Oh- where do you work?  Mmm hmm.  How old are your children again?”  Wanting to scream out- who exactly ARE you?  I recognize the voice, I know I like you, I don’t want to insult you, but where do I know you from?  Help!  I need caller ID.  Fortunately Lisa #1 and I have gotten past the whole greeting thing.  We just say, “Hey!” and we immediately know who it is.

Desperately wanting to change the way we’re eating.  Looking up low carb recipes and finding out, once again, that there are NO low-carb menus a toddler will eat.  They just don’t have a lot of chewing apparatus.  Which leaves us with one of three bad options:1) no diet- we all eat like toddlers and half of us continue gaining weight.  2) I cook two ways and try to convince half my family not to eat the tempting foods being consumed by the other half.  This is rendered more difficult by the fact that both N & D will eat sugar by the handful right out of the cannister.  Self-discipline not in an overabundance around here.  Or 3) We all eat the diet N, D, and I need and the three younger ones eat canned ravioli for the next six years.  Hmmm… no- D would eat all the ravioli.  Help Lord!

I have done it again- my mouth jumped in where my body never should have tread.  I volunteered to teach a sewing class.  Do I know how to teach a sewing class?  NO.  Why did I do this?  I volunteered to teach foundation piecing techniques to make a quilted book bag.  Have I ever done this?  NO.  We’re supposed to do it at the  Rec department, who apparently have a room with sewing machines.  Do I know where it is?  NO.  How to find it? NO.  If the machines work?  NO.  If I could keep my mouth shut, my life would be much simpler.

Another incidence of Podiatrialdentis: Lisa #3 called me up and asked if I would be interested in swapping babysitting with her daughter, who has three boys, ages 4, 2, & five months.  I said sure.  Two days later, the girl calls me & says that I’m her last resort- can I keep her kids for seven hours tomorrow, beginning at 7:30am.  Immediately I assured her this would be no problem (0k, I lied- I was seduced by the idea of holding a little baby again.).  When she called up running late the next morning, I volunteered to pick the kids up from her house.  When she asked if I could do it again tomorrow, I said sure!   Either I’m storing up treasure in heaven, or I’m an idiot.  Hard to say which at this point.  My husband is definitely storing up treasure as he helped me clean the house, ran out and bought emergency groceries for me & dug the porta-crib out of the garage.

The baby was lovely.

I must tell you, the house Neal drug me to look at Tuesday night was out of this world.  I am beginning to believe that God truly wants to bless me, but I’m not sure he wants to bless me that much!  It was 3500 square feet on two acres of wooded, fenced land (all hardwoods mom, and you should see their dogwoods!)  It had a living room you could host a denomenational meeting in, a huge hallway & open buffet kitchen (with two sinks!), a laundry room with a pantry like a public school, TWO sun porches, a two-story dining room with an open wooden stair, four bedrooms, a corner garden tub, a built-in vanity, a built-in desk, a sitting area in the MBR, three attics, a bedroom that would sleep a football team and another for the basketball team, a double-vanity kids bathroom, and enough closets for all the teams’ gear.  Four bedrooms total if you count the 2-room open loft with plateglass picture window.  Oh- and 2 gas log fireplaces, tile floors, a 2-year-old roof, root cellar, laundry sink, dual heat pumps…. that sort of thing.  Yowsa.  And we can afford it.  Can you imagine?  It’s like some kind of surreal dream.

The house does have a few flaws.  The stove is on an island, unventilated.  This might be more of a problem if there weren’t a pass-through and an eight-foot open buffet counter in the kitchen, but still, if I burn something I can’t turn on the fan.  Secondly, the stove opens directly into the refrigerator.  If the fridge door is shut and you are careful, you can open the oven door, bend over sideways, and slide something in.  But I can’t imagine cooking with my back slammed up against the fridge.  And it will be hard to move as the floor is gorgeous hexagonal green tile laid on the concrete slab.  Could I get used to it?  Maybe.  Did I mention that the house comes with most of its furniture?  Nice furniture.

I should go do something useful, and I will in a minute.  I just wanted to mention that my pastor has calmed down a little bit- He’s a nice guy, just very spiritual and enthusiastic.  Reminds me a lot of P.T. at times.  I just can’t see spending an hour and a half a day reading my bible PLUS prayer time PLUS exercise time PLUS homeschooling PLUS cleaning PLUS all the other stuff I have to do (like take care of other people’s children and teach sewing classes and finish D’s afghan and finish putting my sis’ baby pictures on disk and writing my grandfather and re-thinking our diet and getting our medical records out of hock and buying a house…. my to-do list is getting out of hand again.)

I just watched Trading Spouses for the first time in my life.  I would NEVER, not for $50,000, not for 50 million, get on TV and let them embarass me that way or trash my family that way.  It was ugly.  The families were sad.  And despite what the show producers thought, the rich family was just as sad as the poor family.  Both families were characterized by an inablity to give.  They said cruel things about each other, it was awful.  I would never watch it again.  Is that what people really watch on TV?  Is that what America is really like?

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