I am sitting at my big computer, sipping a cup of hot chai tea and eating a chunk of Hub’s Corona beer-soaked, smoked jerky. I don’t even have an explanation. Clearly, my afternoon eating habits are the same as an unchaperoned teenage boy.
(Except for the chai tea part, because I think it’s obvious that I’m refined and elegant.)
Our weekend was a good one, if you like the idea of getting up in the thick of the darkness every morning. If those are your currency, then WELCOME TO THE BEST WEEKEND EVER.
On Friday morning, I got up with the boy at 4:45, because he had to catch a 5:30 golf bus. Tournaments wait for no boy, and when they’re a good distance away, the bus leaves early. I packed him snacks for the bus and dug the sunscreen out of the bathroom linen closet, which are the two things I figured a responsible mother would do, and then I waved goodbye to him, as he drove away in the dark. And then I went back to bed, because listen: It was only 5:15 in the morning. The only problem is that I’d already been up, which caused my brain to believe we had already started the day for good, so there wasn’t any way my brain was going to power back down for sleeping. That’s how I found myself sitting at my dining room table at 5:45 Friday morning, with coffee and my Bible study homework. Apparently, God is always awake, so He doesn’t mind meeting early.
Afterward, I actually discovered REAL PERPETUAL MOTION, as I kept my washing machine moving and spinning and filling and draining all the livelong day. I kept it up until the machine and I both lost track of how many loads we’d done. I kept it up until I had perfectly empty laundry baskets in our walk-in closet, and the only dirty clothes in our house were the ones we were currently wearing. The Finished Laundry Feeling of Bliss and Happiness lasted until 7:30 that evening, which is when Thing 2 disrobed out of his dirty clothes and put his jammies on. And then he dumped laundry in the baskets. Goodbye, Finished Laundry Feeling of Bliss and Happiness.
On Friday afternoon, I took Thing 2 to our library, where they have a new program known as COME BUILD WITH LEGOS. The librarian sets out tubs upon tubs upon enormous tubs of Lego bricks, and… well… there you go. Kids flock in droves to come create Lego structures, with the hopes that the librarian will chose theirs to be displayed for the week in the big, glass showcase. Thing 2’s “straight from my imagination” spaceship had the honor of being featured in the showcase two weeks ago, and his chest nearly exploded with pure pride. This week, he took his Lego building skills to a Level Nine Hundred, and he built a spaceship that was roughly the size of a Volkswagen van. The monstrosity was so large, he had to drag it gently across the carpet to the librarian, because carrying it was going to defy the rules of weight distribution and the laws of counterweights. He told her, “This thing is READY for the showcase!” And THAT, my friends, is the exact moment in life when the librarian chose twelve other Lego creations of a much smaller stature to be put on display for the next seven days, and when my six-year-old’s heart broke plum dadgum in half. She gently explained to him, “Your spaceship is so gigantically fantastic, it’s just TOO BIG to even FIT in the showcase! It’s almost BIGGER than the ENTIRE showcase!” We had tears and we had disappointment and we had to learn that sometimes bigger isn’t necessarily better, even though sometimes bigger is AMAZING.
On Friday evening we kick-started this upcoming season of Glorious Weather with a picnic at the playground with friends. It was also known as CAN WE WEAR THE LITTLE FOLKS OUT BEFORE BEDTIME? We actually ate real food at a real picnic table and had real conversations, because WINTER IS IN THE PAST! (And I say that loosely, because in Small Town, USA, winter is never, actually, IN THE PAST… even in mid-July.)
The boy came home very late on Friday night and he wasn’t even sunburned, because listen, y’all: That man child finally heeded the instructions of his mama and applied and also reapplied sunscreen to his fair skin. It was the first time he’s made it home from an all-day golf tournament without being Bob the Tomato’s twin brother. And, not only was he not sunburned… but he was also grinning from ear to ear because he had just golfed his personal best score! He was exhausted to the bone, as was his mother, because 4:45 in the morning is somewhat unforgiving when 10:00 PM has rolled around. We all went to sleep with enormous dreams of sleeping in the following morning.
And by sleeping in, I mean until Thing 2 would jump out of bed at 6:30.
Except… glory be… Thing 2 actually jumped out of bed at 4:45 on Saturday morning, because he didn’t want to be the only son left out of early morning time with his mother. There was absolutely no convincing him that it was actually still the middle of the night, so there I was, back at my dining room table before 5:30 on Saturday morning, with a piping hot cup of coffee and my Bible study homework, because I was fairly certain the Lord was up for the day, too.
Our Saturday morning was spent doing little chores. We washed sheets. We cleaned the fish aquarium. We cleaned out the fridge. We had the oil changed in the Suburban. I finally took down everyone’s Christmas card photos, which had been smacked up on our magnetic board since December.
And then I had lunch with a couple of friends. While we were sitting at the restaurant, Hubs texted me a snapshot of Thing 2, sound asleep on the sofa at home, with the words, “We’re just taking a little break from chores here.” A nap in the daytime hours translates into Thing 2 not sleeping in the nighttime hours, so you can bet I wasted NO TIME AT ALL, GLADYS, in responding to THAT text message, as I typed, IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS, TO SHOW THE IMPORTANCE OF MY WORDS, THAT HUBS SHOULD GET THE MAN CUB UP, UP, UP, RIGHT NOW, GET HIM UP!!
Hubs texted back that I had no faith in him as a babysitter.
I think the fact that Hubs allowed the man cub to fall asleep while he was on duty is answer enough to that question.
While the boy worked at the golf course on Saturday evening, Hubs and I took Thing 2 to the playground with his bicycle, where he rode three hundred miles, right before bedtime. And since my afternoon babysitter really HAD been responsible after all, and since he SWORE that Thing 2 had only been
below the hard deck asleep for sixty seconds, bedtime went in our favor. We didn’t even make it through our routine first bedtime book, before Thing 2 looked at me and said, “I need to lay down while you read.” And then when I picked up the routine second bedtime book (because we read two books a night, or Mr. Follow-The-Scheduled-Routine lets his circus monkeys loose), Thing 2 said, “I just need to sleep.”
And that was the easiest bedtime the Jedi House has ever seen. Our son was asleep before he was even covered up fully.
Our Sunday was full of church and friends. We had our second picnic of the weekend with more good friends at a different park, so that our kids could run and run and also run. And then, people, I came home and listened to Priscilla Shirer’s simulcast, which she put on yesterday. I bought the download, and I sat down at my big computer with my notebook and my Bible, and I wrote notes until my nerdy hand felt like it would fall off my arm from carpal tunnel syndrome. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote, because Priscilla had a Word to share, and it was a Word that I desperately needed. When the simulcast finished, I had to sit back and stare into space for a while, as I regrouped and made plans to re-enter the real world, where she was no longer preaching what I had needed to here.
And then I had hot chai tea and Hubs’ homemade beef jerky, and wrote this blog post.
Y’all have a marvelous Sunday night. If you need me, I’ll be over here at the Jedi House, flossing jerky out of my teeth and still thinking about everything Priscilla had to say this weekend. Bless.