I woke up this morning with no idea of what day it was. In
fact, I thought my alarm had gone off in error, and I was ready to turn it off.
I realized, Hey! No, you dork! It’s FRIDAY! You have to go to work!!!! I slept like I was drugged last night (I swear,
I didn’t take anything—not even a glass of wine…hey, wine sounds good!). I was
SO out of it, that when I “fixed” my hair (this involves me sticking my head
under the sink; giving it a towel-dry; adding copious amounts of a leave-in
conditioner; somehow combing the tangles out with the ONLY comb that doesn’t
break when it attacks my hair; and leaving), I think I stayed under the faucet
for like, 5 solid minutes under cold water. I have no explanation for why I’m
suddenly so hard to wake up today. …
Okay, maybe I do…
Little guy is at my parents’ house for the weekend (David’s
mother is having major surgery today, and he also planned some sort of
Valentine’s surprise for me—what is THAT?!?!?, and I have a doctor’s appointment
on Monday; plus, there’s a church dinner, a surprise party—shoot, it’s just a
crazy weekend), so I didn’t sleep as lightly as I’ve trained myself to do
(there’s no training—it’s called “motherhood,” and it comes naturally…along
with eyes in the back of my head). I slept like pre-baby Cassidy, and although
it felt like something was off, it still felt awesome.
I didn’t dream…didn’t think…I just slept like the dead
(notice I didn’t say, “slept like a BABY?” Yeah, THAT is a misnomer). I was out
cold, and I can’t remember the last time I woke up this discombobulated. (I
love that I spelled that word correctly, without the use of Spell-Check.
Score!)
(As I’m typing this, I’m not editing it—thus, the copious
usage of parenthesis. Consider this a live version of my ADD.)
So, I pop on PandoraOne, and it starts me out with “Santeria”
by Sublime. Call me a ‘90’s throwback if you will; I love this band. No one
sounds like Sublime (sorry, 311). Gritty, bouncy, danceable, rebellious,
bob-your-head, rawk-fist music that makes you want to do your best to “sing”
along…except, you just can’t, because most of their subject matter is simply
awful. I still like them, and to me, it’s a good start to the soundtrack of the
day. Having the morning to myself leads
to awesome opportunities to sing loudly and badly, and I did just that, while
making my coffee.
Speaking of coffee, David and I are on a fitness plan to
lose some weight. Coffee, sadly, is not on that plan; though I gave it up
cleanly my first week, it has worked its evil way back into my life. I’m
drinking less of it, but after reading that my go-to Starbucks venti Pike’s
Place with Classic Sweetness has like, 400 calories, I’m going to have to give
it up again. Boo. When I wait until I’m at work to make my coffee, my machine
only makes 12 oz. at the most, so that’s a guaranteed decrease from my usual 24
oz. I can work with that.
Anyway, it’s a short day for me at the office, followed by a
trip to the hospital to be there for David’s family. My MIL has had bad health
for a few years now; evidently, before I met my husband, she was an active,
busy woman. I’ve only known her as someone who is disabled. She has severe
osteoporosis, epilepsy, and diabetes with complications, so I’ve never seen her
on a day without pain. She’s spent the past year in a major back brace, and
this surgery, though awful, will hopefully correct her issues. She’s facing a
very, very long recovery, and could definitely use your prayers. As any
daughter-in-law, I’m not entirely convinced that my MIL likes me…after all, I “stole”
her baby boy (actually, HE stole ME—just ask my daddy). She’s a simple woman,
and a helluva cook! I’ve also very rarely heard her say anything negative about
anyone, and in her own way, she reminds me of my Grandma Myers (really, there’s
no higher compliment I could pay anyone). She’s old-school, loves Jesus, and
has a serious obsession with making jewelry and knitting. She’ll be making
buckets of things while she’s in rehab!
Last night, I called her to give her some moral support
before her surgery. Just a tip, people: if you know someone who is going in for
major surgery, DO NOT TELL THEM ALL OF YOUR MACABRE HORROR STORIES ABOUT OTHERS
WHO HAVE HAD THE SAME SURGERY WITH COMPLICATIONS! My poor MIL has had to hear
about others’ surgeries and complications for weeks; she says she’s not afraid,
but I can hear it in her voice. Ridiculous—I’d like to smack a few of her
so-called “friends.” Stupid people—I think they got their Encouragement Lessons
from Oscar the Grouch.
In the course of our conversation, we talked about my
Hannah-girl. Gosh, I miss that baby girl…and no, my son does NOT fill the void.
Not only is that impossible; it’s ridiculous to assume or to put that pressure
on him. He is his own blessing, and was not born to take the place of another. He’s
created his own beautiful place in my heart. Hannah’s place in my heart will
continue to be hers, forever. My MIL has her own understanding about this, and
in her simplicity, she manages to say exactly how I feel. Down-home people have
no room for rhetoric. They just give you truth, and I love that about her. She’s
kind, but she’s honest, and when she says something about Hannah, I listen.
With JD being gone this weekend, she understands how I feel like the house is a
black hole. She doesn’t tell me I’m being ridiculous. She told me about how it
must be, to see JD go through these milestones (he’s standing!), and realizing
how I’d never see Hannah do those same things. She’s right—I don’t talk about
it much, because I don’t know too many people that I can be candid with about
it. She picked up on it, and I have to appreciate that compassion. She nailed
it. I don’t always like what she has to say, but I know her heart is good, and
I’m thankful to have her in my life. I wish she wasn’t in pain all of the time…
It’s a busy weekend. I really don’t think anyone is happier
about this weekend, than Holly-dog. She didn’t seem too sad to see the Tiny
Human packed off to Grammy’s. In fact, after I finished soaking in the tub (45
MINUTES!!!) I came downstairs to see my StinkyPete (one of Holly’s 50
nicknames) in MY spot on the couch. Something tells me she’s doing a little
Doggy-Dance with Daddy this morning while he gets ready for work.
I hope you have a lovely Valentine’s Day…I thought about
getting fixed up for work today, but then was like, “stop bein’ crazy!” I’m not
fooling with that nonsense (although I DID wear red). I’ll have some time to
get my pretty on after work (for my romantic trip to the hospital). If you’re
single, hey—it’s Friday night. Get yourself a pizza and a glass of wine, and
celebrate the fact that you can order whatever toppings you like (unlike those
of us that are forced to deal with SAUSAGE ON OUR PIZZA-bleh!). Valentine’s Day
is NOT a big deal for me (although my Mommy DID get me some lovely, cuddly
jammies, so I DID get a nice Valentine), and I think it’s highly over-rated.
Married, single, or living-in-sin—whatever you’re doing (it’s between you and
God)—I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day. Remember that God is Love,
and we’re supposed to be like Him. Be Love Personified today.
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