I’ve been posting a few other places this week and as it would seem, I’ve been busy! Summer lazy has turned to summer crazy. I’d love for you to join me if you can!
First off, I wrote a guest post at Love and Respect Now. I’m part of Joy’s Illumination series, talking about those moments in life that things seem to be illuminated. I’m taking a different way of looking at it. I hope you’ll come over to join me.
My husband, Chad, tells an eighth grade story full of shenanigans, dark gymnasiums, and of mercury vapor lights.
Apparently he was quite the prankster five years before I met him and many of his jokes landed him in the vice principal’s office. One of these particular jokes consisted of him pranking his entire Christian middle school by turning off the gymnasium lights during an assembly.
Recipe: 1 Cup of Darkness. A few hundred middle schoolers. A teaspoon of sinister prankster-ness. Stir well and pour into dish. Bake at 350. Let complete chaos ensue.
The mercury-vapor lights that inhabit gymnasiums everywhere take only an instant to be extinguished but take what seems like a lifetime to return to their original brightness…
But most of my life has felt like the mercury-vapor gym lights as they turn on.It’s like I’m waiting for inspiration. Or wisdom. I’m watching as a grey twilight becomes full incandescent brightness.
And I’m also at Simple Mom today. I’ve been asked to be on their regular contributors list writing about marriage and I’m so excited. I love Tsh and over the past four years, she has become a good friend. Join me today as I talk about the most important thing I’ve learned in 17 years.
“I could use a little HELP in here!” I raised my voice to a pitch that would reach from the girls’ back bedroom all the way out to the garage.
It’s not an easy bedtime, the Sunday night before the last week of school and on a particularly busy weekend. It goes beyond one-more-glass-of-water and moves toward tell-her-to-stop-doing-that-sound-with-her-mouth. Bunk beds breed many evenings of frustration among sisters.
“Well, I could use a little HELP out HERE!” my husband called back to me. Again. Frustration. I was just as tired as the girls, and when Mama’s tired, her nerves are as close to the surface as they can be.
I walk toward the master bedroom and spend the next few minutes seething over the fact that yet again, he has told me that he would help me, and knowing how beyond exhausted I am, he decides something else is more important.
I make a decision to be angry that he spoke to me that way…
And then we’re both mad that the other one is mad. It’s an infinite loop of marital crazy and no one wins at this kind of game. No one wins at this argument…