may the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14
Over
the weekend I woke at 4am to the smells of a sick dog and immediately
called my husband at the fire station and begged him to come home and
clean it up. Because at 4am I absolutely consider doggy diarrhea to be a
life threatening emergency.
And this morning in the before
school chaos, the dog did another big no no on the rug to cover up the
scent of her doggy cousins that visited this weekend. And moving the
couch and chairs and hauling rugs out before breakfast just makes me
grumpy. And I hate it when grocery stores play super sad songs that
make me want to cry in the cereal aisle. And the lady at the Office
Depot called me Ma'am and said she'd see me again next week... because
she just knew. Because this has been our dance - about 5 times in the
last week for school supplies. And just so you know, there are no
turquoise folders in the city of Dallas for 5th period language arts. I
settled on a blue folder and a roll of turquoise duck tape and just
gonna tell Christopher to go to town with it. And yesterday I relayed a
kindness to someone... you know... because it's just the right thing to
do. But sometimes people are - just people, like me - or maybe this
one is just an arse.
So today I am a little frustrated. And
still wearing the same sweaty clothes I taught 3 classes in this
morning. But now they're dry. I'm a ball of emotion today.
But my goal is always to find the story - maybe one of those beauty in
the everyday ones I like to write. Because I've been on a regular
search for those moments lately. And by looking with both eyes and
heart, it's amazing what I find.
So I looked past the obvious
and saw a husband that ran home to save me from one of life's uglier
jobs. And I remembered other times that firemen friends have come over -
to rescue a kid from a locked room, and even to test me for heart
palpitations. Because at that very moment I swore my life was flashing
before my eyes. Turns out that's just a symptom of motherhood and they
suggested I drink a glass of wine.
And I know that in the end,
it's the response that matters. That's the good stuff. The security of
having a network of family and friends to call upon and fall upon.
Those substitute moms that are there when I can't be. The neighbors
that see my kids shooting each other with air soft guns in the yard and
call to tell me about it.
I have a friend that may be calling
upon her network. As she plows ahead of me in the years of parenting
teens. Showing me the hidden doors and dangers - and while doing so,
showing me how to respond when I walk through the same.
And
the good in all the other day to day stuff? Well,.. I love that I'm
free during the day to be home to care for my family. But not to clean
up doggy accidents. And free to run all over town looking for ONE
single turquoise folder, because there are plenty of people who would
love to be out and about like that. And I can consider rudeness as,
well, just rudeness... and maybe the mark of the true person. Maybe a
door I need to see closed for my good. Because there has to be
something better on the other side.