Funky

Today was weird. Started out rainy and gloomy, which means this Mama had trouble starting her day. Mr. Wonderful ran out and got doughnuts which, I’ll admit, did help turn my morning around. Good man, that one.

Prior to this though, the fiery red-headed three year old had woken me up in the middle of the night to inform me that her “pillow was broken.” If you wake me out of a deep sleep a body part better be hanging the wrong way because I. Will come. Unglued.

And she woke me by standing next to my bed and whispering in her creepiest voice. This did not compute in the deep of night. Her pillow is broken, my brain kept saying. At the time I couldn’t grasp that her pillow case had come off, a true 3:00 am emergency.

I suppose the lack of sleep and strange weather were somewhat to blame for my funkiness. And not the cool Uptown kind I’m always hearing Bruno Mars and his pals sing about. 

Also, this afternoon I had a book signing at a lovely bookstore where they forgot to put me on the calendar! Which meant no publicity and people avoiding my table like I had the plague or was selling Amway (if you sell Amway, I don’t avoid your tables. I’m just using this as an example.) Thanks for helping me stay humble I’ll-call-you-unnamed-bookstore-since-you-felt-so-bad-you-invited-me-back-for-a-big-publicized-to-do! 

Lovely sidebar: I got to catch up with my former youth minister from high school so it was well worth the trip.

Then we went bowling for our oldest son’s Gotcha Day. For the uninitiated, this is the day this awesome kid was handed over to me in an airport 11 years ago. It’s like his birth into our family, and since I didn’t get to be there for his actual birth, this day’s pretty special. 

Technically this day is Monday but since it’s a school day we decided to celebrate today when we would have more time. (More on Gotcha Days in another post.)

As we were leaving the bowling alley I could just feel Mr. Wonderful’s tension mounting. I’m somewhat of an emotional barometer these days. I can feel when something’s building.

It wasn’t a bad building, increasing to the point of no return. Because I could feeling it coming I was able to give him a break and take over kid duties like bath time and bedtime. And we were able to just hang out in our Oasis and watch Netflix.

This is usually heaven for me. But when I can feel the tension and anxiety and his desire to tussle bubbling towards the surface, it makes  me feel what he’s feeling. I’m like a freakin’ human emoticon. I usually love being able to intuit and read people and really empathize with them. But I hate when it’s Mr. Wonderful going through stuff. It’s hard to feel his suffering.

I really wanted to say, hey! PTSD, give us a break today! I’ve had it with you and I’m kicking you out. Show your face around here again and I’ll get Mr. Wonderful to kick your…yeah, that’s right. Run away! (Fist shaking here.) 

So it’s all weirdness and I find myself up in the Danger Zone (aka Kid Area) writing things and listening to their untroubled kid sighs. I love listening to them sleep. Their little yawns and sounds and sometimes even laughter (I have two that tend to laugh in their sleep) make me smile through my tiredness and remember it’s all gonna be ok. 

Tomorrow is a new day with new mercies waiting for all of us like an unwrapped gift. 

Thank God.

Copyright Meredith Shafer 2015, (Photo credit Meredith Shafer 2015)

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