Murder Mystery

I hate being home alone at night. Last night Chris didn't get home until after 11. I tried to make good use of my alone time by going to bed at 9, but falling asleep wasn't happening. I tried to pray myself to sleep figuring the rosary would knock me out. I mean, whenever we pray a family rosary at night I pretty much have to slap myself in the face to stay awake. No such luck last night. I watched an hour long episode of the Journey Home and still I couldn't sleep. Then just as I was getting down to the serious business of telling my inner voice, "SHUT UP and let me sleep I do not want to think about remodeling or raising honey bees or moving back home or any of this cray cray so STOP talking to me," I heard some noises.

There was definitely some loud floor creaking going on in the kids' room. Maybe Lenny waking up? Carolina standing up in the crib? So I went to check on them and they were sleeping soundly. Ok, whatever, house. You're weird and please be quiet. I shut the door on them and went to lay down and heard it again. So then my inner dialogue started to get loud.

Obviously there's a murderer in their room with a knife ready to slice their little throats as soon as I fall asleep. No there's not. You're dumb.

This is why I hate being alone at night. Cause it gives all my crazy thoughts free rein to drag me down the wild path of stupid paranoid panic.

Of course I had to go back in and check on them and look in the closet, behind the door, and under the crib.

No murderer in here. Windows and doors are all locked. Aren't they? Yes, Duh.

I checked all doors and windows. All locked.

Maybe the murderer came in through an unlocked door and locked it up behind him. Nope. Dumb. Shut up brain.

I heard another creak at the bottom of the stairs.

Oh heck no I'm not going to check for no murderer down in the dark basement he can rot down there along with the spiders and roaches. Good. Cause there's no one down there. And no roaches either crybaby.

So I got in bed and tucked every inch of my body up to my neck under the blanket.

Murderers can't get me if I'm under the blanket, right? Am I a bad mother for protecting myself in here and leaving the kids to fend for themselves? I bet they're both under blankets so they're fine. Blankets can't save you. Then why does it feel so good. Go to sleeeeeeeep.

Then I finally heard the car pull in the driveway.

THANK GOD Chris is home. 



Hopefully one day when my kids read this they will understand that I am a lunatic and forgive me for my shoddy parenting and have mercy on my in my old age.

The Good Life

We are sitting on the deck loving life right now. I do have a ton of things to get done inside but it can wait. I mean, hey, the completion of chores is sorely lacking on a daily basis but here we are, just as happy and healthy as we are every day, clean house or not. 

 

Looking down at these shabby pants is not gonna stress me out right now. I have very few wearable pants and these now have a huge rip on the knee. Which is not really my style, plus these are dressy-casual and I think the rip looks stupid. I'm mentally counting ahead wondering how long the jeggings with the giant holes around the pockets will last, too, and how long it will be before I'm wearing the same pair of pants every day. Months maybe?

I gave up stressing out about money when I was pregnant with Lenny. Still it's hard not to. When I'm staring my options in the face all I see are low rise skinny jeans that are one size too small and ratty ripped yoga pants. I'm gonna have to buy new pants soon. Simple enough, until I add it to the list of things we will need to buy soon. 

I notice every hole and rip in Chris's socks and underwear when I put the laundry away. I feel his pain when it takes him twenty-five minutes to start up our hunk of junk computer. I've been through every stage of cabin fever these past two months stuck in the house wondering when we'll be able to buy a new car. I see the kids' highwaters and tight shoes and how fast they are growing. I hear every darn scratch and scamper of these squirrels we got throwing a block party in the eaves of our house and wonder how much it will cost to get rid of them. I watch every single pair or my shoes slowly unraveling and falling apart all at the same time. I listen to the rattling noise of the garbage disposal and wonder when that, too, will fall apart. 

It doesn't matter what we buy, fix, or take care of. Once you get ahead then it's Christmas. Or you need new tires. God has seen us through every need in the past and he will continue to do so in the future. So I just let it go. When I'm finally stuck wearing the same pair of pants everyday, I will get new pants. I don't need to worry about how right now. I just need to trust. Trust that this is His plan for me. When life isn't perfect we learn that we can't control it all, that we need God to do it for us. THIS is the good life. 

And looking back, he's done an amazing job. Especially with these two gorgeous, gorgeous human beings. When it's good, it's good.