Well, I can’t be writing happy thoughts every single day. That would just be a bit much. So, this morning’s post will be quappy tempered with optimism.
Gabe is sick, poor guy. And I racked up some Unsympathetic Wife of the Year points last night. He didn’t feel well Tuesday evening. Yeah, well, suck it up. Didn’t feel well yesterday morning or at work. You’ll be fine. Came home last night feeling worse. I had made Cheesy Mexican Soup and was in a rush (wed. night awana), and he just sat there not eating. Well, hmph.
I wasn’t in the mood for a “sick,” needy husband. I already had more than enough on my plate, thanks.
He went up to bed, I cleaned up supper, got the girls ready, he said he wasn’t going to his men’s group, I was ticked about having to go by myself, he asked me to get him something, I wasn’t kind, I left. Two hours and 45 minutes later, we came home to find Gabe in sweats (he wears shorts around the house 359 days out of the year at least), wrapped in a blanket, burning up with fever. Safe to say he’s really sick and not just being a baby.
Please pray that he feels better today. It’s his going-away party at work. He got to pick the restaurant–BD’s Mongolian BBQ–and at this point, he can hardly sit up. Stinky.
Cubbies was interesting last night. I mostly like to blend into the background and let the other teachers lead. Plus I started the year late and don’t really know what’s going on. But last night, there were 5 of us adults in the room (which is great!) but 3 were guys and 1 was a first-time volunteer mom, so everyone kind of looked to me to make things happen. It was fun and went well–even if it was a bit rowdy, and we were completely disorganized at the end trying to pass out patches and stickers and mark down verses in the book and hand out the right crafts to the right kids.
Anyway, so it was almost over when I had a heart attack. It was already chaotic when the parents were picking up their kids. They have to sign them out, and I just prayed all the right kids were going with the right moms and dads. So, a man shows up near the end. “Who are you here for?” I ask nicely. “Grace.” I turn around, and say, “Grace. Your daddy’s here.” I don’t see Grace. Where is Grace? Ah, the bathroom. I knock on the door. No answer. It’s locked. Is she in there?? I’m panicking. A few minutes earlier, Claire’s dad came and one of the teachers kept trying to give him Grace’s stuff. Did he take Grace?! I run to the other room that shares our bathroom. Bathroom empty. I run back. Everyone’s just standing there. “Where is Grace?” I ask the other teachers, as calmly as I can. No one knows. I check the sign-out sheet. Grace has been signed out. The signature is illegible. “Is it possible someone else picked her up?” I ask. He shrugs. What is that supposed to mean?!
I can barely breathe at this point. Someone has kidnapped a child on my watch. I run out in the hall, he follows, I hear, “We found her!” I look down at a little girl holding a woman’s hand. This is not my Grace. My Grace has short blond hair. This Grace has long, dark, curly hair. My Grace is safely on her way home with her own parents. This man came to the wrong classroom to pick up his daughter. He gave me a heart attack for no good reason. And he doesn’t even seem sorry.
So, I pick up my children in all their classrooms–super late, because their daddy usually does this part. I took Blushing books to give to a friend (Holly! Are you reading this?) but didn’t hook up with her, so there they sat in my van. Nina started crying as soon as we left the church. Ava was crying because she couldn’t remember her verse and blamed me for saying it too fast when she was trying to learn it. Then Livi started in on her. I was dead tired. Blah, blah, blah.
I just kept telling myself to fight. Fight the bad mood. Fight the devil. Don’t let all this quap get you down.
So, anyway. I was in bed before 11:00 for the 2nd night in a row. Meant to work on my book but couldn’t keep my eyes open. I still feel really tired. I think it might take awhile to get that out of my system.
Got up at 5:55 to run. Ava and Nina got up too. Didn’t want to leave them in Gabe’s care since he’s not feeling well, so no run. I’m blogging instead. I have Bible study, then lunch, then 2 phone calls about speaking/books, etc. Supper, soccer game, collapse.
So, I’m doing the Believing God Bible study, right? I just assumed God would give me something I needed to believe Him for. Yep. Gabe’s last day at his job is tomorrow. Bills are coming out of the woodwork. Six months of car insurance, our new health insurance premium, license plate stickers, a doctor bill from ages ago that our insurance won’t pay, self-employment taxes (due Sept. 17–oops!), I need new contacts (now!).
Soooooo….this is a perfect test of faith. I am mostly passing. Well, I keep chanting, “I believe You, God. I believe You, God.” I see no feasible way those bills can be paid on time. We can pay them in a month, sure, but not when they’re due. But I’m determined to believe. This is the Creator of the universe here. What’s a few hundred bucks?
Well, I could just really go on forever, but I smell a poopy diaper, and the poopbearer (wearer) is sitting at the kitchen table going to town with my pen and journal.