Two and a half weeks ago, our four oldest daughters packed our van and set south to spend a week on the Gulf with Mom and Dad. They caught hundreds of pounds of Lane Snapper from Dad's boat and brought some back home with them. That left only Mike and the two little ones here with me. He decided we'd jet ski the weekend away. First, I determined there were some things to be done. And I made that clear as I toted the ladder down the hill to the garage saying into the air against good sense that, "Somebody has to do it."
On the boat ramp, I climbed onto the trailer wearing Crocs. I knew better and slipped the first time. I asked for Mike's hand and in his hurry, he escorted me right back into the water. Except this time, my shin planted into the corner of the trailer's running board. It hurt so badly that I felt nauseous and when I lifted my leg up, the blood poured. My trite comment about "somebody has to do it" rang through my head. "Michelle, when will you listen?"
Touche. God means business about this respect thing, EVEN WHEN hormones fluctuate. Yes, I had PMS. Some women use it as an excuse to act up. But for the most part, I think it's just truth serum against the trash talk and treatment we put up with from the world the rest of the month. And it's why "red buttons" are dangerous in our hands.
It wasn't long before Mike had the kids behind him on the float coasting across the water. I was riding back a little and thought sentimentally to myself that, although this "investment" he made was not what I would've chosen, it was a beautiful thing to see the fun they were having together. Truly.
That was until the cord got wound up in the propulsion tube and I had to tow them back. He was agitated but I wasn't, UNTIL he goofed off and broke the hook so that I had to grasp the rope and drive my own jet ski for quite a distance.
Once he got his out to work on it, he told me I should go have fun on mine. I decided that I ought to stay nearby to watch over the little guys ...and honestly, to decompress.
Which is what I did but it looked like I was pouting and at first, I was. See, the silent treatment only works if we're truly taking it to the Lord. Otherwise, bitterness manifests and is apparent through our facial expressions.
By the time he got it fixed, Macklynn and Madalynn had lost interest. But he thought they'd read my body language and were siding with me. He threw his hands up and proceeded to get everything together. And he left. I assumed that he went to the store but after an hour, I realized he was really gone. Sweet Heather came to my rescue, just to find out that he didn't know he'd taken my keys.
We did a "do-over" the next day.
The four of us piled into the single bench seat of his old Toyota truck and when we pulled up to the drivethru for lunch, I thought we couldn't have looked more redneck. It's kind of funny really, because I like to see how people treat us when we aren't in our normal setting.
We had a great time on the water, probably looking more like grandparents than parents. Mike hooked the float to my jet ski, and I pulled them in circles for the longest time. I thought how neat it was to be doing it myself. I thought how so many women jump the gun, wanting to "be" and to "do" while they're children are babies and toddlers. Don't rush it. Your time will come, just like mine is.
When we got home, Michael had called from school 3 or 4 times to wish me a happy Mother's Day. I still have it on the machine. My girls were living the Salt Life while I was getting refamiliarized with Lake Life. It was a good day and the sun agreed with me.
In two more days, Mike was gone to Texas and the plumber was at our house trying to figure out what was wrong with the well filter system. And to top it off, the billy goat was harassing his female kid and although we were outfitted for Macklynn's game, we went into the pasture to corral her. But she was wise to us, so I had to go in and get the lasso. Now, unlike McKala I don't know a thing about lassoing, so finally I decide to noose him instead. So, while he was eating grain, I slipped it under his chin. And the fight was on.
He wanted no part of it and struggled tooth and nail all the way up the yard to the trailer. Macklynn was afraid I was killing him but we got him on, not before he rammed him in the stomach and gored me in the leg. I tied all sorts of knots to ensure he didn't jump the walls.
We had DONE something! Just me and the littles. We felt emboldened on the way to the ball field, sweat running down our brows and backs.
The next day, we found out what time to be at the auction, hooked up the trailer, and did fine until a truck pulled out in front of us and we had to brake suddenly. The trailer unhooked and hit the asphalt. Oh yeah, that's what I forgot, the lock! But I DID remember the chain hooks, even showing Macklynn that they were for backup! Thank God that He looks after fools. I'm glad no one or no thing was hurt. We were able to pull over rather quickly. The poor billy was sitting down and shaking and who could blame him. It must've seemed like a slow-mo scene of a movie with the screeching and halting of metal.
We got there in time for him to be the last animal received and the first sold. We made a pretty penny toward a real milk goat and we stayed to witness the sale of lots more animals.
Since we had the truck, we put the flower pots we'd started for DJ in the back. When we pulled around behind the facility to put them out by his window, it was broken and all the beds had been moved. It looked like a crime scene and I was nervous until I got in to see what it was. It turned out to only be an accident. DJ was in a room by himself and very glad about it. It threw a wrench in my plans for him because his new window has an industrial AC outside and is so high that he couldn't see any flowers much less his bird feeder. So, the next Wednesday we brought him Pippy, our Pitbull. She crawled up in his bed and he pet her as he listened intently to the book I was reading, and it was as though the last week hadn't even happened.
Thursday night Macklynn had practice. It was one of those evenings that I just wanted to be a loner, so I took Madalynn over to the playground. There was a 13 year old girl who began talking with me. And within a little while, so was an 11 year old girl. They both sat down and listened word for word and were in agreement with the deep things the Lord had me talk with them about. It was unexpected and beautiful, and I was on cloud nine after we got home. The three of us had the house all to ourselves for three days. We managed it well and enjoyed spending the night all in one room together, them taking turns - one in our bed, one on a mattress in the floor. Just before we retired one night, Madalynn and I saw a foot long snake playing dead in the back yard. Even though they give me chills, I thought I should give Macklynn a shot at it. He took a jar out and coerced it in. We left it on the kitchen counter and researched everything about ringneck snakes.
The next morning he let it out but chanced catching it by the tail. And he did! Covered in goosebumps, I was impressed with his display of bravery, much like that of his brother.
Saturday Sloan and her family came to watch Macklynn play and then to take us to a trampoline park. They bounced until Macklynn got so hot his nose bled. Milkshakes made up for not staying another hour.
The next day the SP volunteer Mike had bought the jet skiis from, which incidentally Mike had likely painted when he worked for Yamaha back in the early 90s, went with us to the lake after he and Mike rode motorcycles, which they had also done the day before for "Operation Heal our Patriots" in Alaska. I was embarrassed that when he first got here, I still had out mounds of clothes to sort through for summer and winter. But I had it done before they returned. In terms of hospitality, the kitchen and bathrooms are most important to me, so those are the things we try to keep done regularly.
He stayed up late enough for the girls to return home and tell some of their vacation stories. Then, he slept in the arrangement we make in the living room floor for visitors. I do like that about disaster relief volunteers - they'll humbly sleep anywhere because most of the time they've worked so hard they don't even care. He woke early the next morning and went back to Alabama.
That Monday most of my hours were spent listening to the unraveling of the girls' tales from their adventures. I have to love that my husband works to give me that freedom, even to wake at my own pace each morning over a cup of coffee and my Bible.
Tuesday and Wednesday were marathons of errands and lessons. I don't even remember Thursday except that it had to have been spent in preparation of Friday. We were to be at Duke University at 7:30 am. McKala had to undergo testing in the POTS Clinic.
After an hour of being hooked up to a dozen monitors on a tilt table and even given nitro glycerin, she was finally diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. It's something central to young Caucasian women, especially those who've suffered a serious injury, surgery, or virus. Well, she certainly qualifies there!
The prognosis is a three to five year recovery. She's already begun heart medication to slow down her rapid heart rate, which is caused by the imbalance the body has in telling the blood to flow back to the heart at a reasonable rate. The heart beats hard to make up the difference often making the individual pass out. There's a constant state of lethargy and even nausea and vision impairment. She'll have to drink a ridiculous amount of fluids and add as much salt as she can tolerate to her diet to retain good blood volume.
Then, when she's stable, she'll begin an exercise regimen to make her heart as strong as it can be. That this makes her test her faith and health will one day prove to be to her good. That there is a light at the end of the tunnel makes this something we can't really complain about. That we grow tough from these things is essential. The toughness is the residual of faith. Be tough or be crying. Crying for a night happens but much longer than that is a choice. That's why we're so tough on people, because if they roll over they will be pummeled by their own ways or that of another. Although we're made to need each other, we can't always rely on each other. So, many things we learn to do on our own because it's either grow strong or grow bitter.
While we were still reeling from finally getting an answer, we walked to the parking deck to drive to Virginia to get Michael from his final day as a junior in high school. We were several hours later than we thought we'd be. He had all his stuff piled up in the grass and was nowhere to be found. We manipulated his things into the cracks and crevices of the van between the 6 of us who'd be driving back. Michael did the honors. He talked quite a bit for a somebody who doesn't ordinarily.
We'd packed a cooler and thought we'd make it to Macklynn's game but traffic stood in our way, so we came on home, the place he gets to operate out of for the next 11 weeks. He'll work most of that time because he's not happy to be down to his last $100. Lots of his hours will also be spent restoring his body from surgery and preparing for his senior year of football.
McKala told him that Dr. Miller intends to put him in charge of his Christmas tree farm. A mother likes to hear that someone has that much confidence in her son. She also likes to see the owner of the 100 year old dealership her daughter repairs cars for write, "She is an asset to our company and we are glad to have her, as I told her dad the other dad. She has an excellent attitude and everyone likes her,,,,,, and she knows what she is doing."
Not that everyone will "like" us, but they know if we care or not. Above all things I want my children to love the Lord with all that they have, including a hard work ethic, AND to be good to people. It turns out that even when people don't carry our same beliefs, they see when they can and cannot trust a person. McKala is house sitting this week for a family who does share our beliefs and said she's the first one they thought of because of her love of animals and her trustworthiness. She's also all but Dr. Sarah's personal assistant.
Melody's gearing up to be a "captain" at camp this summer and has raised virtually all of her money with her T-shirt business, which hopefully is about to branch out. She's making supper again right now. That's after she and Miranda ventured out to rescue the kittens she and Megan found on their walk yesterday. It appeared that someone "dumped" them. It's amazing to me that people can't seem to choose between a meal at Applebee's and getting their animal spayed.
So, not only do we have the ailing cat Mike found for Miranda in the Waffle House parking lot in Pennsylvania on his way home from New York just after I killed hers. Now, we have tiny Berlioz, Toulouse, and Jean-Marie since the kids recollected that the Aristocats favor them.
Mike just called to say a volunteer friend whose husband flies an airbus has offered our kids tickets to fly to and from another Texas church that SP is about to set up in for flood disaster relief. I love what the Lord does for us and whatever He has planned, no matter what it is. You see, something I've learned is that my opinion, my style means nothing in the scope of time. I thought over Mother's Day of my favorite things. I prefer flowers that grow themselves and have intense fragrance, like irises, wisteria, and peonies I like seams that show handsomely on leather and cotton. I enjoy grape flavored anything. I'm a visual learner and an opportunistic teacher of whatever life has to offer. My love language is acts and deeds because there are so many things I'm learning but still can't do.
These things are well and good, and if God sees fit to put them in my life, He will. If not, I don't have any reason to even think about them.
I die, He lives. Like Michael told Mary-Hope the other day, "It's a win-win situation."
