So, yesterday, I got out of bed at 2:34am once establishing that falling back to sleep was no longer an option.
I did some stuff around the house, worked on my website and made my husband his favorite breakfast sandwich when I heard him get in the shower.
About 15 minutes later we got in a fight about whether to keep or remove an old dresser that is missing a drawer. I wanted it GONE when the new one arrived.
He rejected my sandwich at hello, and I stuffed the 2000 calories myself instead of having my new breakfast favorite of fresh carrots and Monterey jack cheese squares.
I took my son to his homeschool co-op with all the little Valentines he'd hand-written for his special little Valentine's party. They decided to do the party late (assuming we could all stay after the classes) and we had to miss it because I had to drop him off at his Nanna's and go to my therapy massage followed by a Chiropractic appointment.
I brought Zeek to my Mother-in-law's house. She was not there. She showed shortly afterward with Michael (he and his Mom live with her now). Michael had a new sword to go along with his toy gun. Everyone in the universe KNOWS that Greg and I think weapons and small children do not mix well, but I had to talk with her about it again to have the sword put away.
I left my Mother-in-law’s house and pulled my Jeep onto the empty road, only to have the neighbor across the street pull out of his driveway and plow the back of his car into the driver’s seat of my Jeep.
1 police report
1 exchange of insurance info
1 private (though later suspected) conversation had between me and mr. cop about said "equal fault" (said the man who hit me, of course)
1 argument between the man and the cop, who documented what was clearly true about whose fault it was
1 final word from the cop being the threat of citation, which in turn finally calmed down the neighbor car-bludgeoner
So, I carried on my way with a whistling driver's side door, now minus the steam shower they recommend for the type of knot grinding therapy I was in for.
Once at my massage appointment, I realize that I never shaved my legs that morning (minor in comparison, I know but certainly relevant).
Then, 45 minutes of hearing how symmetrical and bone-like all the knots in my neck, shoulders, mid-back, and calfs are, along with the intense pushing and pinning of such boney knots.
Finally, the body crusher therapist tells me that the majority of them aren’t going to budge, and asks, “are you under a lot of stress?”
Next I was on the way to my Chiropractor appointment.
I know this is a convenient schedule for a Mom whose car was just smashed into by another car just inches from her already screwed up knotty, unaligned body, but I swear I didn’t plan the accident part. It was just a convenience.
Before I arrive at the Chiropractor’s I called my Mother-in-law to see how my baby was doing (he was staying the night with my precious nephew, his toy guns and swords, and his Mom who just left his father). She said all was well and then asked Michael to “put the sword back under the bed, please.” I took out a little of my frustrations on her head by chewing it off a bit. We finished our conversation in short. I stuffed the welling tears on my way into the office.
Once in the adjustment room the assistant tells me, “the Dr. will be right with you”. I smiled as she closed the door, and then on came the water works. And I was thinking, “what is
this for?” I can NOT stop crying. And of course, the Dr. comes in. She has apparently seen this before, because she hands me some tissues and tells me to stop apologizing. She fixes my back. I propose to her, again. She declines the offer... again. And I return to my broken Jeep.
I stop at Jimmy John’s for some familiar friendly faces and a #5 with mayo and peppers. Because let's face it, on a day like this Jimmy is my heroine
and my heroin.
Does anyone bother shouting , “welcome to Jimmy’s!” when I open the door?
Is there a smiling, customer friendly face waiting to take my order and hand me a custom sub out of thin air? Not at all.
Just a “what’ll ya' have” and a hand awaiting payment.
I stuff my sandwich in my purse to go along with the lovely ensemble of stuffed tears, stress, and tension, and walk out to the tune of silence in the place of the usual, “have a good day!”
I phone my Mother-in-law twice to apologize for eating her face off. She will not answer my calls.
Finally, once I am home, she answers her phone. Crying. :( I stuff humble pie down my throat, rightfully. And after the best most sincere apology of my life, she says, “fine”.
I briefly consider hanging myself and chose to try, try again. We come to an understanding. We wrap it up. It's over and done.
I prayed for my son, his exposure to whatever he may be influence with, for his Nanna’s strength and good judgement, and that he would be safe and happy for the night.
And finally, my husband walks in the door an hour early from work and saves the rest of my day with pampering, laundry folding, bedroom cleaning, show watching, good talking and laughing, and allowing me to go to bed at 7pm.
This morning I am awake again at 2:30am.
And I can’t help but smile as I reflect on the day before.
It was the best worst day ever.
Other than hurting my Mother-in-law (which I hate that I did) I was everything that I’ve wanted to be for the past 6 years but could never seem to live up to.
I smiled when it hurt.
I cried when the door was closed.
I didn’t piss and moan.
I didn’t snap at the people being paid to be of service who didn’t live up to my needs and expectations. I didn’t even let on that I was disappointed.
I presented the best, most authentic apology of my life (thanks to years of Pam's and Bethany's shining examples), and I didn’t freak out when it was rejected.
I praised God for the time sensitive perfectly placed car accident.
I spoke with the policeman in private AFTER making nice with the man who felt this incident was “all fair and even”.
I left my son over night with my Mother-in-law (in a house of less than stability right now) in complete trust and confidence that she could handle it.
And I made all of these choices from the heart. Not once did I do, say, or not say something that I forced or didn’t want to.
I have known myself for 31 years, so I know that none of this is short of a miracle. I am grateful for God's Mercy, Grace, and endless healing. I am in awe of the Fruits that come in result of loving and serving Him despite my many flaws.
This morning I feel like I’m laying in the warm sun on a beach with a perfectly aligned un-knotty body and something more to offer than I came with in the beginning.
And that is good stuff right there.
Plus my Dad thinks I look like Katherine McPhee.
It’s all uphill from here.