*Mama, sitting up blinking, like she’s been staring straight into the sunlight for far too long.*
Well… HELLO, THERE! I feel like introductions might be in order, for the faithful four followers of Jedi Mama, Inc., who have checked in repeatedly this past week and announced, “It’s over. She has closed the blog down for good this time, and it’s over.”
Oh, people. It’s never over. It’s just that life has been full of VERY BIG THINGS lately… VERY BIG, NOT SO PLEASANT BIG THINGS lately… and I just haven’t had it inside of my heart to come into work at the offices of Jedi Mama, Incorporated, to write something that’s trivial, light-hearted, and funny. I just haven’t felt the funny for a while. And then I got up today and decided that MAYBE… just maybe… trivial, mundane, light-hearted, somewhat funny, run-on-sentences is what we all need these days, because…
… cancer sucks.
Did I sugar-coat that enough for your eyes? Did we just go from a PG blog to a PG-13 blog, quicker than you can swallow your first sip of WELCOME TO DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME COFFEE? Do we need to have the corporate offices come in here and offer a bit of censure to the word SUCKS? Because it’s not a word that’s in rotation in my everyday vocabulary. It’s a word that I only take out for special occasions. You know… those occasions when I need to talk about cancer or child abuse or cottage cheese.
Cancer has shown up too close to let me breathe freely lately, and it’s done it repeatedly. My dad. Two of my very closest girlfriends. A good, GOOD friend. It’s in the lungs. It’s in the bladder. It’s in the breasts. It’s in the neck of two friends’ husbands, that we know and love dearly, and I haven’t felt like sitting down to write about nonsense for lots of days in a row now.
But… here I am.
Apparently the nonsense must go on.
But… I am here to beg you… if you pray… to add some names to your prayer lists. Before you do, though, let me tell you what a good friend, who is a pastor, told me once. He said, “What if we all prayed for OTHER PEOPLE with the same intensity that we pray for our OWN FAMILY MEMBERS with? Because? Isn’t it true? We pray harder… more diligently… more often… longer… for our family than we do for others. What if we prayed for EVERYONE like we pray for OUR OWN FAMILY?” Indeed. What if we did?! So here are your names: My dad… Jodi… Gary… Joel… Jill’s dad… Pray for them. Pray for victory over their cancers. Pray for their wives, who are all so close to my heart, and who are walking a pathway that they never wanted or expected when they said FOR BETTER OR WORSE. Pray for their kids, who are still young. (And that includes me! In the young part! *Ask the audience to laugh out loud here.*) Pray for their treatments, their stamina, their spirits, their energy. Pray for peace and sleep and total healing.
… thank you. From the very depth of my heart.
Now, if you’ll just let me get a tissue here and dab at my emotional eyes, which do NOTHING but bawl straight out these days, we will get on with the nonsense.
HOW ABOUT THAT DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME?! There’s just nothing that makes you quite as happy as having an entire hour stolen away from you, so that your body is no longer tired at normal times in the evenings, because suddenly it thinks it needs to stay awake until MIDNIGHT O’CLOCK. I did that last night. The last time I stayed awake until midnight was at a seventh grade slumber party, but MAN ALIVE! I had myself a case of WIDE AWAKE last night, so I did what any normal person would do: I defeated multiple levels on Candy Crush and read Facebook posts and Googled things like HOW TO CLEAN THE GROUT IN YOUR BATHROOM TILES, because apparently my midnight self is full of unbridled energy that wants to CLEAN! CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!, while my morning self is full of the momentum commonly found in sick snails. Of course, what really helped was knowing that Hubs, who was sound asleep beside me, because HE NEVER MET A TIME CHANGE THAT HE COULDN’T SLEEP STRAIGHT THROUGH, was going to be getting up in the pre-dawn hours to leave town for work. So, it was ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL when we got up at 5:45 this morning.
I think we should pause here and dust THIS little video off. I put it in my blog last year, but it still applies, and we still need the message that it gives:
“Stupidity, I send you back downstairs!” Best line of ever!
Also? Well, I tried with everything I had to paste the video RIGHT SMACK ON THIS PAGE, but that video wasn’t listening to any of my directions. It was disobedient, and didn’t follow the advice that I usually use to put videos straight onto the blog screen for you, AND… my resident computer guy is currently GONE FOR THE DAY… four towns down south… installing a computer system for a federal agency… so you’ll have to click the link and watch it that way. I’m sorry. There was nothing more I could do, to bring the heart of that video around to being obedient to what I asked of it, when I told it to GET ON THE SCREEN HERE, ALREADY!
(And lest you think that our house is unattended, what with Hubs being gone for the day, and that TODAY, of all the days, would be the one to break in and steal our diamonds and my personal tiara, think again. Hubs will be home TONIGHT, and we have two cats who honestly and really and also very truly believe themselves to be a Rottweiler and a German Shepherd. They enjoy nothing more than cutting the livers out of our house guests, which is embarrassing when you actually LIKE the people visiting, and quite helpful when it’s someone digging secretly around in our closets for my jewel-encrusted crown. We do not need ACTUAL guard dogs, because these two cats serve that purpose well. That is all.)
And then there’s this little nugget:
And, in the name of THIS TIME CHANGE IS NOTHING BUT A FRESH KIND OF HELL, we did try to wear the youngsters plum out on Sunday, with all hopes and faith and prayers lifted to the Lord that they would honestly believe that the OLD 7:00 / NEW 8:00 was their legitimate bedtime. We took them to the indoor playland, because COLD WINTER IN SMALL TOWN, and we ran them like they were bulls in Spain.
But! I am happy to report that a whole lot of physical activity over the past couple of days has pretty much kept Thing 2 on his normal schedule, even though (and I shudder to admit this), Hubs and I have had to wake him up for the past three mornings at 7:15. Oh, rest assured: I really DO feel like the worst kind of sinner in doing that, after all these years of building altars and asking the Lord at them to PLEASE LET THE CHILD SLEEP PAST 5 AM. I think a root canal would be straight-up easier than easing open his bedroom door at 7:15 these past three mornings, to find him all snuggly and warm and SOUND ASLEEP BENEATH HIS BLANKETS, and then waking him up. But! We have more sleep issues than a Baptist church potluck has attenders, so we are very much needing to be up in the mornings, so that it translates into GOES TO BED IN THE EVENINGS. I basically have a Ph.D in Thing 2’s sleep program, because HE IS STILL THE WORST SLEEPER OF EVERNESS, and my doctorate has the experience behind it to know that too many hours of daytime sleep equals too many hours of nighttime awake.
That’s going to do it for today, folks. It’s 9:30 in the morning. We are on Spring Break. At a time when I am normally standing in the gym with a first grade PE class, I am currently sitting at a computer, in my pajamas, with my second EMPTY cup of coffee in front of me, while Thing 2 binge-watches Tom and Jerry on the TV and the boy sleeps. It’s time to get our day started, and that means we need to shower and curl our hair and apply the mascara and DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE NEVER ENDING LAUNDRY SITUATION IN OUR HOUSE, WHICH IS DEPLORABLE AT THE MOMENT, and the kitchen counter situation, which is even more deplorable.
And then we need a full-on order of groceries, because OF COURSE WE DO. So, while many of you are spending your Spring Breaks on the beaches of Hawaii… and the spring training ball fields of your favorite teams… and the front porches of bed and breakfasts in New Orleans… and on Florida beaches… and at Disney World (Y’all know who you are!), don’t think that we aren’t having our own kind of fun, right here at home, cleaning up a house that looks like it’s lived in by trolls, as we prepare to head to town for milk and bread and eggs and Pop Tarts.
All the blesses.
Happy Tuesday-After-We-Jump-The-Clocks-Forward. May your day be full of coffee and quiet children and sunshine.