Day 371

June 12, 2014

I am feeling productive tonight.  Today I finished the touch-up painting in the girls’ room, finished tidying up the basement, made a hot breakfast for the kidlets,  washed and hung two loads of laundry, took David to Learning RX, found two pairs of needed summer shoes for myself at Penneys, exchanged David’s new bike,used my new carpet shampooer for the first time in the living room, made cookie dough,   dealt with a very naughty Lizzie, supervised David’s weedeating and after a couple of go-backs, now have the yard looking all nice and tidy, did 4 scrapbook pages, made supper and had a sit-down family meal,  spraypainted a chair for the girls’ bedroom, spraypainted the porch swing (I love spray paint – one of the greatest inventions ever), bathed the girls, including hairwashing and detangling, got some ironing done,   and started picking up all the rocks, bricks, and cement chunks out of the yard.  I should be exhausted, but I could probably go a couple more hours yet. 

I wonder if getting past the Big Anniversary has given me an energy boost?  I haven’t even been feeling all the greatest this week, either.  My allergies have been kicking it up, which is unusual for this time of year.  I have a feeling that the date has a whole lot to do with all I accomplished.

Ben comes home tomorrow afternoon from Special Camp.  I am anxious to hear how his week went.  Monday, my friend, Maureen and I took our kids up together.  Her daughter has been up twice before, but this was Ben’s first year.  Since Paul isn’t around anymore to counsel/watch over Ben at regular camp, I knew we had to do something else.  But even before Paul died, I was starting to look at the idea of Special camp over “regular” camp for Ben.  He’s old enough now that he would do fine with the other adult, mentally handicapped adults who attend.  Actually, they don’t even have a minimum age requirement.  It was kind of fun just being up there for the hour or so that it took to get Ben checked in, find his cabin, and meet his counselor.  Maybe some year I could go up and counsel on the  girls’ side of the camp.  Ben’s counselor is a pastor down south of us and seemed really nice and attentive to everything I mentioned to him about Ben (which was probably too much, hovering mom that I can be).  I have been praying like crazy for Ben this week and I haven’t gotten any phone calls so I’m assuming that no news is good news!

What else?  Despite the significance of this last week, life has had a way of “happening,” too.  I seem to recall it sort of stood still the week of Paul’s death, but I may not be remembering all that clearly, either.  So, I have a handful of those “happenings” I jotted down to share in my blog.

The other night Lizzie asked me if I would be “picking out Ben’s wife someday.”  She added, “You know – ‘cuz he has special needs?”  I guess she sees all the other things I do for him that aren’t quite normal for an almost 18 year old and figured this might fall into the mix, too!

But then, the other night at the fellowship after our VBS program, Lizzie asked me something about little Rebekah, my friend, Jenny’s 4 year old who has significant physical needs.  It is obvious to anyone who sees Rebekah that she was created uniquely.  I answered Lizzie’s question and then explained, “Rebekah has special needs, you see.”  Lizzie’s mouth opened into an O and she exclaimed incredulously, “She does?!”  To her, Rebekah is just Rebekah.  I thought that was so sweet and such a good reminder of how God views us, His creation.  We are all so unique to Him and created exactly how He intended us to be.  When He looks at us, He sees us, not conditions or ailments by which others might define us.

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I got my obituary written finally.  I have a list of things I need to get done that are related to my eventual death.  This was number one on my list.  The only thing is, I found myself being really modest about what I wrote about me.  Most obituaries are not and they laud the deceased, pointing out accomplishments, talents, etc. It makes for interesting reading and helps the reader “know” the one now dead.   I didn’t put any of that stuff in because I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging.  But all that was left was a pretty dry account of my life.  So, I may attach a sticky note and suggest that I would not be a bit offended if others want to expand what I’ve written by a bit.  Or not – I won’t care because I’ll be dead.  Honestly, some of my reasoning for writing my own obit is so I know the spelling and punctuation are all correct.  If someone adds to my obit, they have GOT to make sure they do it correctly.  Maybe I need to refer to my earlier comment about it not mattering, since I'll be dead?!

Speaking of death (and when have I not this last year?)…a couple of weeks ago I idly asked Will how decomposed he thought his dad might be by now.  I know, I know…normal mothers do NOT ask this kind of question…Will was quick to assure me that Paul is still quite intact.  Rats…I still struggle with the irrational desire at times to bring a shovel up to the cemetery and shovel down to his coffin and pop the lid just for one last look.  I won’t.  I have a feeling I’d tucker out after about a dozen digs with the shovel.  I’m not too big on manual labor.  But the thought still lingers… If I knew Paul's body was already breaking down and he didn't look all that human anymore then I think the desire would lessen.  I sure wouldn't want to see that! 

Will went on to tell me that he had seen some news program that explained that bodies remain relatively unchanged for years and years because of the embalming process combined with the airtightness of vaults and coffins.  Oh, you know, even if I dug six feet down, I wonder if there is some sort of cement lid to his vault?  I didn’t stick around the day of his burial to watch.  I had had enough of people and just wanted to go home. 

The Littles excitedly brought in a handful of strawberries one night this week (21 to be exact – Sam counted).  They’re from the bed Paul planted quite a few summers ago.  I haven’t done a thing with them but the berries keep coming back.  I suppose eventually they’ll all be choked out.  But for now it’s like having a little bit of Paul return to us every June.

I had to take David shopping this week for church pants – AGAIN.  The kid will not quit growing.  One night last week I warmed up corn dogs for a quick supper.  He ate 10 of them.  Earlier this week he cooked and ate an entire 12” pizza in one sitting.  I thought maybe with Will gone now my grocery bill might decrease a bit.  Something tells me that was just wishful thinking!

I had an encounter with my randy neighbor again this week, but I feel kind of good this time.  He asked me to copy some pictures for him at City Hall  I hated the idea, but didn’t have a reasonable way to squirm out of the request.  I didn’t even have a spare kid I could take with me at the time to discourage his advances.  I made his copies and then he, quick as a snake, reached out one arm to hug me.  I stepped back and told him, “No- I am NOT hugging you!”  He told me he didn’t like that, but accepted it.  Hmph…I should hope so!  Of course, there was the nice part of me that felt bad for hurting his feelings.  But mostly, I just felt really, really good that I had stood up for myself and for what’s right.  I AM capable!

Well, tomorrow’s another busy day, so I should take my capable self to bed.  I actually get to stay home all day.  I am hoping to start stripping the front door.  That’s going to be a messy job.  But it was either strip the door or buy a whole new one.  I don’t think it’s in bad enough shape to justify purchasing a new one just quite yet.

Will will get home in the afternoon and then he and Lizzie have to be in Pella by 5:30 for the wedding rehearsal.  Saturday is the big day.  We’ll all have to be in Pella before 8:30 that morning for pictures.  Ugh.  The hardest part will be keeping the rest of the kids occupied and out of the way.

Better scoot…I can tell I am slowly losing steam just by sitting down here…