Play It Again, Sahm
Meredith Efken
After years of friendship, the women of the SAHM I Am e-mail loop are finally meeting in person. But with two new moms trying to blend in with Dulcie and the gang, there's bound to be trouble!Earth-mother Iona and young mom Hannah are thrilled to join the weekend getaway sans hubbies and kids. But sparks fly when Hannah's know-it-all attitude clashes with the Queen of Ego, Rosalyn. When things go from bad to worse, one mom must step in to save the weekend from total disaster!
Praise for
Meredith Efken
@HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
“[Efken] offers a balanced and loving take on gender roles, faith and child-rearing. Both stay-at-home and working Christian moms will recognize their struggles here, and feel the novel’s lighthearted humor lessening their load.”
—Publishers Weekly
SAHM I AM
“Can a novel consisting entirely of e-mails be enjoyable faith fiction? Efken’s charming, light debut offers a resounding and surprising yes. Efken keeps the mood light, although she’s not afraid to tackle serious topics such as infertility, marital difficulties and chronic illness. Christian readers will savor this fresh entrée.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Written in the tradition of Erma Bombeck, this fine first novel is recommended.”
—Library Journal
“SAHM I AM is hysterically funny and I lost count of how many times I laughed out loud. I loved the cast of quirky characters and I could hardly turn the pages fast enough. Erma Bombeck was a funny lady, but Meredith Efken is even funnier.”
—Christy Award-winning author Randall Ingermanson
Play It Again, Sahm
Meredith Efken
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my mom and dad, Judi and Mike, for filling my childhood with love, my soul with laughter, and my shelves with good books.
And for all the readers who asked me so sweetly for another SAHM story—this one I wrote for you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Collecting inspiration for my SAHM stories has always been something of an accidental treasure hunt. I never know when I’ll stumble across the next gem. I’m very thankful to the following people whose crazy behavior, odd mistakes and other personal quirks have proven so useful to my story. (Because yes, it really is all about me!)
For Tosca Lee, the queen of text messaging. Thanks to you, my cell phone company has increased their profits because I had to get a new service to accommodate all our messages to each other. You’ve trained me well, and now I’m working on getting my husband hooked, too.
Thanks to Scott Ross for his brilliant discovery that glass stove tops can be broken with a pan. His wife may not have appreciated it, but I found it was most instructive and inspiring.
Thanks to my friend Richard Vasey, the original Tiara Man, for showing me how cute a dad can look when his daughter dresses him like a fairy princess.
Thanks to my agent, Steve Laube, not just for being a fabulous agent, but also for telling me about the people in Phoenix who trucked in snow for their kids’ birthday party. He told me about giant roof rats as well. Too bad I don’t write horror.
A big thanks to Morgan Busse for having the creative foresight to bring a child into this world who would nearly nuke a kitten, thereby providing me with yet another entertaining disaster for my book.
And thanks to my own daughter whose talk-the-babysitter-into-letting-us-play-with-lit-candles scheme nearly drove me over the edge… And the crawling out on the porch roof… And the Queen of the World remark… And…well, I’d better not share any more of her secrets, I guess. Since I was able to use it all in my book, everything is forgiven.
Much appreciation and love to Camy, Randy, Steve, Gina, Chip, Tosca, Jim, Brandilyn and all the many others of my late-night writers conference buddies. The retreat in this book was written with you guys in mind—for your friendship, laughter, support, and for all the sleep hours we’ve given up in order to hang out together.
Finally, a special thank-you to my editor, Melissa Endlich, for being such a great supporter of my writing and letting me do a third SAHM book. I appreciate your insight, enthusiasm and how much fun we’ve had working together. The campfire scene at the end of the book—that’s for you. Thanks, Melissa!
Contents
Begin Reading (#u5e4b7035-49bd-5d50-a142-9f6ad21c659f)
Letter to Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Beloved Moms,
I am SO pleased to have the honor of welcoming back our dear Rosalyn Ebberly to our SAHM I Am loop. As many of you know, Rosalyn made the wise decision about a year ago to take some time away from our loop family so that she could focus on some intensive therapy and counseling with her own family. Praise God, He blessed them with much healing. Today, they are stronger and healthier than ever. And Rosalyn feels at peace with returning to the loop.
She will return to her moderator duties immediately, and none too soon. The other half of my news isn’t nearly as wonderful. My mom, who is in her seventies and lives all by herself in Santa Fe, is going in for double hip replacement surgery next week. We’ve been discussing it for several months, and it only made sense that she come live with us for the surgery and through the rehabilitation period. This is going to be a HUGE upheaval in my family’s routine, since James (who’s thirteen now!) is going to have to either move in with little brothers John and Josiah or let them move in with him. Rachel and Rebecca were already sharing, and we didn’t have a guest room.
And Mom is going to need so much help with everything for a long time. So just as Rosalyn is returning, I’m afraid I’m going to have to say goodbye for a while. I’ll miss you all terribly, but I know I’m leaving the loop in the best hands possible. Rosalyn will take care of everything. Please give her the same cooperation and respect you’ve always given me. If you want to e-mail me privately, you can. May Jesus bless all of you.
With all the mother-love in my heart,
Your loop mom,
Connie Lawson
SAHM I Am Loop Mom
Sweetest Sisters,
It is SUCH a joy to be back among you! I feel like I’ve been sojourning in a strange land and have finally returned home. It’s been a bit more than a year since I took my sabbatical, and yet you girls have made me feel like I never left.
This past seventeen months has been a time of growth and healing for me and my family. I’m looking forward to sharing what I’ve learned with all of you. I think the best way to do that will be through my resumed duty of moderating the Topic of the Week. My sister, Veronica, has, from what I’ve heard, been doing a great job in my absence, but when she heard how eager I was to take my old place again as TOTW facilitator, she graciously agreed to step aside.
Most of you know I’ve been involved in intensive therapy and counseling along with my family. One of the most important things I’ve learned is that I must be COMPLETELY HONEST with those around me. So this is our TOTW— Total Honesty.
It’s difficult to be honest and vulnerable with other people, even the ones we love. But I’ve learned that this is the ONLY way to truly break the cycle of dysfunction and strife.
So let’s practice this week, shall we? I’d like each of you to share with us one deeply personal thing that you’ve never shared before. As we bare our hearts to each other, grace and friendship will be released, and we’ll be closer than ever. With that in mind, here is my confession. I give it to you with trembling fingers and a full heart:
I HATE to cook. In fact, sometimes when it’s been a really bad day, I call my husband and ask him to stop at McDonald’s on the way home from work. I can down a Big Mac in under two minutes, and we have a bin of Happy Meal toys that we stash in the basement when company comes over.
Whew! It’s great to have that out in the open at last! See, honesty isn’t so hard. What about you? Get that secret off your chest. And remember, this is for posterity, so…be honest.
Peace to you all,
Rosalyn Ebberly
SAHM I Am Loop Moderator
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
THAT’S her big confession? After all the pomposity, after all the “I’m so much better than you, you poor things, why can’t you be more like me…ah, but you can’t and never will, you LOSERS”…after waging a war on Christmas because retailers weren’t saying the greeting SHE thought was most correct…after being so paranoid about her husband that she hired a detective to spy on him…after her kids were freaking out and drawing pictures of themselves in COFFINS…
She expects us to be impressed that she’s confessed to a lack of interest in the culinary arts???
Air. I need air. I’m hyperventilating. Her first day back, and I’m already developing a nervous tic. At this rate, we’ll ALL need intensive therapy.
Z
How do you really feel, Ham? Honestly. Share it on the loop, dear one. You know it’s for posterity. The emotional health of your children hangs in the balance.
Dulcie
Don’t tempt me.
Z
Poor Zelia, it sounds as if you may have some unforgiveness toward her. Are you certain you don’t need to confess it on the loop? It will do you much good.
Teasing,
Phyllis
Phyllis, darling, don’t you have a graduate class to study for? Something along the lines of “Dripping Faucets: A Survey of the Most Irritating Women of Western Civilization”? You could write a paper on our loop moderator.
Besides, the TOTW was about honesty, not forgiveness. I’ve never struggled with being honest.
Z
Betcha five bucks that forgiveness is next week’s topic.
Dulcie
Dulcie,
I’ll see your five and raise you one.
Phyllis
Aaaarrrgghhh!!! You’re a PASTOR’S WIFE! You don’t make bets! And besides, you did it wrong. If you think Dulcie’s bet is right, why would you raise it? Oh, never mind… I have to go pick up my children from school. Why they have to schedule school all the way into June boggles the mind.
Z
Oops. Do you think I made her angry? I was only trying to joke around with her. All of you know I think betting is stupid. I was truly just kidding.
Phyllis
LOL! I think you’re okay, Phyllis. You know she’s been really touchy about Rosalyn ever since The-Incident-That-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned last year. But Z’s been a bit stressed out lately. No wonder—things haven’t been going too well with Lishan and Duri. I think she’s really worried about them. It’s been eighteen months since they brought those two home from Ethiopia, and they’re still having a lot of language problems. She told me Duri has been wetting the bed almost every night, and Lishan has terrible nightmares. I feel bad for her—wish there was something I could do to help.
Dulcie
Hi! I’m new—so I guess anything I share will fit the topic of the week because I’ve never told it to any of you! LOL!
I’m Hannah, and I’m nineteen years old. I have a two-month-old baby named Boaz, and in two weeks I will celebrate my FIRST year of being married to my totally awesome husband, Bradley. We live in South Carolina, and I always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom with lots of kids. My best friend, Krissy, went off to college in Florida to be a marine biologist. I guess I’m majoring in the Domestic Arts here at home. I joined up with this group because our moms’ group at church doesn’t meet during the summer, and Krissy decided to spend the whole summer in Hawaii. I’m hoping to make lots of good friends here!
And Rosalyn, I’m like totally impressed that u can talk so easily about being in family counseling! I read through the archives and found out what happened to u—thinking your husband was having an affair and then the woman turned out to be a Lesbian! And all the problems with your kids! That’s so humiliating! You’re really brave to come back to a big loop like this where everyone knows all that bad stuff about you.
I’m just trying to say don’t feel bad about not liking to cook. Compared to all that other stuff, it’s no big deal. But if you want, I’ll be glad to share some recipes with you that I like. I’ve been getting more into organic cooking, so anytime you want some help, just let me know. Okay?
Oh, I’m so happy to be here. You’re all going to be my best friends forever (BFF). I can just FEEL it!
In the love of Jesus,
Hannah Farrell
Is it my imagination, or did that new chick just like totally dog Rosalyn?
Brenna
Like, she so totally did, Brenna! I like, LIKE her, you know?
Like, how cool is that? She’s so like going to be my new
BFF!
Like totally Dulcie
Come on, guys! She’s only nineteen. Yikes! That’s only seven years older than Tyler! Anyway, I think she was rude. Rosalyn’s been through a lot. We shouldn’t mock her.
Jocelyn
Jocelyn wrote:
< Rosalyn’s been through a lot. We shouldn’t mock her.>
WHAT? Are my eyes seeing correctly? Jocelyn, babe, come back from the Dark Side. Did she slip you some Kool-Aid while we weren’t looking? Did you DRINK IT?
Z
Of course not, I’m not stupid!
But I do feel a bit sorry for Ros. She’s had a hard time of it the last couple of years. We should be kind. However, that new…child does look like she might provide some entertainment. Nineteen! My goodness. And since when is “lesbian” a proper noun? And is there a problem with her fingers that she is unable to type out the word “you”?
Jocelyn
Jocelyn wrote:
< And since when is “lesbian” a proper noun? And is there a problem with her fingers that she is unable to type out the word “you”?>
Ahhh, Jocelyn, now u r speaking my language!
Phyllis
Phyllis wrote:
< Ahhh, Jocelyn, now u r speaking my language!
>
Hey, great joke, Phyllis! Your sense of humor is really improving!
Brenna
Thank you! It was the elective graduate course in Joking 101 that did the trick.
Phyllis
Oh, man. I’m in awe.
Like totally.
Brenna
Hey Rossie-girl,
Saw that post on the loop from that new chica. She made you look about as sharp as a…oops, never mind. Was going to lapse into a Texasism, and I promised you not to. But sheesh, sis— Houston is really growing on me for real! I’ve perfected the “y’all” and “wajeet” (what did you eat). Not such an act for me anymore.
Anyhow, I’m sorry about what Hannah said. She was rude. You going to talk to her about it? I’ve half a mind to let her know what we Texans do to little chits who diss on our family members.
You hang tough now, you hear?
Veronica
Dearest sister,
You can relax— I’m perfectly fine. Hannah obviously has a lot of repressed anxiety and an emotional hunger for acceptance and a sense of superiority. These things are inflicted on the juvenile psyche and manifest themselves in a variety of ways, include an inability to gauge appropriate social behavior. I wonder how her relationship with her father is? Regardless, I’m not planning to speak to her about it at all. It’s not my problem.
Anyway, rest assured I am not allowing her emotional unrest and woundedness to disturb my personal sense of peace and well-being. I just picture Jesus as my bubble of light, surrounding me as I float down the sewers of life. No matter how murky the waters, they don’t need to contaminate my inner wholeness. Oh, Ronnie, I can’t tell you how freeing it is! This sort of thing would have made me so angry a year and a half ago, but now…it just rolls right off.
Though I would like to know what you were going to say… Sharp as a what? You have my permission, dear girl, to “speak Texan.” I don’t even care if it’s put on or genuine. Those sort of petty issues no longer have the power to upset my spiritual centeredness.
With love,
Rosalyn
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
Was going to say, “She made you look about as sharp as a mashed potato.”
Therapy or not, you are still one bizarre chick, sis. Shrink turned you into a Buddhaesque freak. Either that, or you’re on some pretty strong drugs.
Veronica
LOL! Neither.
I’m high on the peace of Jesus and emotional wholeness.
Rosalyn
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
I think Buddha-enhanced drugs would be less scary than your evangelical-induced Nirvana. But you know I love ya anyway.
Veronica
Hey, hotstuff, what are you doing?
Working, of course. Nobody warned me that interior design would entail marital counseling. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow with the Kerricks, who are fighting over the design of their master suite. She said she wanted “red walls and gold satin curtains” and his response was “Great, we’ll be sleeping in a bordello.”
She said, “And how would you know about that?”
“Well, how else is a guy going to get some action, huh?”
And then they were off. I know FAR too much about the Kerricks now. Blech!
So my job tomorrow is to calm them both down before they decide to get a divorce and leave me with an outstanding bill. This is NOT what they trained us for in school!
What are you doing? Where are the kids?
Love ya!
Dulcie
I’m e-mailing you. The kids are…let’s see… MacKenzie is doing a hair-singeing experiment with the lighter, and I gave the twins permission to take their dolls to the roof and play up there for a while.
Your humor is sad, as in S-A-H-D, stay-at-home DAD SAD. You obviously are bored and don’t have enough to keep you busy. You could bring me a snack or something.
A snack? Do I look like a live-in maid? Sheesh. I cook for you, I clean for you, I care for the kids—and this is the thanks I get? Bring me a snack? I’m insulted.
You might as well—you’ve still got a dish towel over your shoulder. You look like housekeeper material to me. Just missing the apron.
Shoot! I forgot again. I hate that— I put it there when I load the dishwasher, and then it’s there the rest of the day. But an apron? Not even on my dead body, got it? A SAHD has to have SOME boundaries.
And why are you e-mailing me when I’m sitting not four feet away from you?
Me? You started it!
Instant Message
Huck: True. This better?
Dulcet: No! I can’t IM. I have to work!
Huck: Chill, sweetheart. It’ll be okay.
Dulcet: No, it won’t. How would you like this little entrepreneurial endeavor of Homemaker Interiors to fail before it’s even two months old? Right now, the Kerricks are my ONLY clients.
Huck: You’re not going to fail.
Dulcet: If they bail on me because their marriage breaks up, we’re not going to make the house payment next month.
Huck: They won’t bail.
Dulcet: From your lips to God’s ears.
Huck: And don’t worry about the house payment. That’s what our year’s worth of savings is for.
Dulcet: Yeah, but I don’t want to use it! It takes at least three years to get a business going. And about half that money is from our parents. Even though
Huck: Yes, it’s called an “investment.”
Dulcet: it’s a gift…yeah, or “investment,” I still don’t want to use it until absolutely necessary.
Huck: I know. But it will be okay.
Dulcet: Thanks for the vote of confidence. I just know how much is riding on me succeeding with this. It’s really scary sometimes.
Huck: Don’t put so much pressure on yourself—it’s not just you. We’re in this together, remember? And WHY are we having this conversation via IM when we are sitting in the same room?
Dulcet: YOU STARTED IT!!! And anyway, I have to get back to work. Somebody has to earn money in this family, mister.
Huck: Hey, you can’t be so high and mighty with me, Ms. Self-Employed Business Woman. Dulcet: Why not?
Huck: Because I’ve seen you wake up, and it’s impossible to be a snob to someone who snuggled you first thing this morning.
Dulcet: Snuggled? Is that what you’re calling it now?
Huck: Is that inaccurate?
Dulcet: I am WORKING! I am professional and very busy!!!
Huck: You’re blushing…it’s so cute.
Dulcet: I cannot IM you about stuff like that right now or else the Kerricks’ master suite WILL end up looking like a bordello! Don’t you have some preschool disaster to clean up or something?
Huck: I love you, Dulcie.
Dulcet: I love you, too. Now go away.
Dulcet: And stop laughing at me!
Huck signed off at 3:48:23 p.m.
Dulcet signed off at 3:48:35 p.m.
Okay, I’ll play. I just got home from my twins’ ten month checkup. Tess is doing great. But we’re worried about Patrick. He is just now sitting up without support, but he can’t get himself there on his own yet. And the doctor says he should be able to pull into a standing position!
Tess is such a go-getter, but Patrick doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t try to reach for toys, and he hardly ever makes a sound. He’s a lot smaller than Tess, too. At first, I thought he’s just a really laid-back kid, but now I’m afraid he’s actually behind. Lots of studies talk about how in vitro fertilization babies are at higher risk for developmental delays, and my two were from a frozen embryo adoption, too! What if all the antiembryo adoption people are right, and it’s our fault that Patrick is delayed? They all say that frozen embryos are weaker and more prone to developing birth defects.
The pediatrician said we need to look for hidden ear infections. But I’m worried it might be worse than that. We love Patrick, but if there’s something wrong with him, Darren will be devastated. He’s under a lot of pressure to do the whole “have a son to take over the farm” thing with his family. What if Patrick can’t do that?
And yeah, I got the guilt thing going on, too. It shouldn’t matter if there’s anything wrong with Patrick or not. We will still love him anyway. We shouldn’t be disappointed or put expectations on our kids. I know. And I feel bad because I’m doing it anyway.
How’s that for total honesty?
Brenna
Brenna, thanks for being so honest. I don’t want to make light of your worries, but I used to also worry a lot about Helene. She’s always been so obstinate and headstrong— I thought maybe she had some psychopathic disorder. But she’s just strong willed. And now that she’s three and a half, she’s getting better. My slowly stiffening backbone about being firm with her is helping a lot, too.
I guess I’m trying to say that ten months old is a little early to be too worried about developmental stuff. Kids grow at different rates. Your pediatrician wasn’t too worried, right?
I’ve got “boy troubles”, too—of a different sort—with little Neil, who is now just over two years old. Actually, it’s not him so much as it is me. Me and my lifelong inability to stand up to anybody or deal with disapproval or conflict. I’ve gotten so much more confident about being firm with Helene that I thought it wouldn’t be a problem with Neil, either. And it’s not…well, not directly.
I know I’m not making much sense, but I don’t have the energy to explain it right now. I definitely don’t want to get into it on the loop quite yet. That’s my honest confession. I still have a lot of clashes with Helene. Sometimes I just can’t deal with any more conflicts, and this thing with Neil will definitely create a controversy there.
Anyway, try not to stress about Patrick. He’s probably just fine.
Love,
Marianne
Okay, everyone, here’s my deep, dark confession. I haven’t told ANYBODY on the loop this yet…
About a month ago, my husband, Shane, got a huge promotion—to VP of the web design firm he works for. Came with a big raise, and we’re all really happy about it. But here’s the kicker— Shane and I had a long discussion. Seems he’s STILL not satisfied about my ability to say “no” to doing stuff. I mean, it’s a lot better than it was a couple of years ago. We’re still homeschooling, and with four kids—one of whom is now a teenager—there’s bound to be a lot of activities. We only let the kids pick three extra things per week to be involved in. So it’s only twelve total! But I’m not directing the church Christmas production, or teaching the marriage classes, or coordinating the home school co-op classes. I still lead a women’s Bible study group, but that’s ministry so it doesn’t count!
I tried to explain all this to Shane. He says that since I am pathologically unable to maintain anything resembling a sane schedule that his only alternative is to…
HIRE EXTRA HELP!
That’s right—he forced me to hire a housekeeping service! And he’s making me allow a teen home school student come over to be a “mommy’s helper.” As if I need help or something! Can you believe it?
So now, I have to go away once a week and when I come home, the Happy Housekeepers have been all over my home—straightening, vacuuming, dusting, cleaning the bathrooms. Yes, they CLEAN my bathrooms! It’s so embarrassing.
And Tasha, the homeschooler, comes twice a week to tutor and watch Evelyn and Audra so I can take Cassia to dance lessons and Tyler to home school band. (He’s playing the saxophone—isn’t that terrific?)
My life is ruined. A mom ought to be able to manage running her own household. I didn’t need help. What do these Happy Housekeepers know about my home anyway? Well, other than that Tyler sometimes misses the toilet bowl…
Oh my goodness! They KNOW my son has bad aim!
I can never show my face again in public.
Jocelyn
She’s mad that her husband insisted on hiring a housekeeping service? Somebody shoot her.
Instant Message
JocelynM: Hey! Be nice!
Dulcet: I am. I could have said you sounded like Rosalyn. But I didn’t.
JocelynM: Yeah, okay. You were nice.
Dulcet: Seriously, what is your problem? I would LOVE to have a housekeeping service. We can’t afford it.
JocelynM: I just feel like if I’d been doing the job I should be doing, Shane wouldn’t have gone and hired someone else to do it. How would you feel if you had to hire someone else to do your design work for you?
Dulcet: If I had to hire another designer, I’d be thrilled because it would mean my business is really growing. Most people view hiring as a step up.
JocelynM: It just feels like a big failure to me. Maybe I *should* be shot.
Dulcet: I’m sorry.
JocelynM: I gotta run. Tonight is piano lessons and we have to leave in a half hour.
Dulcet: Have fun.
JocelynM signed off at 6:18:04 p.m.
Hey Jocelyn,
Frank and I got ourselves a cleaning lady right after we got married a few years ago. It’s been a lifesaver. Or at least a sanity saver for me, anyway. Don’t know what I would have done without the extra help.
Don’t worry—once you get used to it, you’ll wonder how you ever survived without it. I can’t remember the last time I actually had to clean the bathroom myself!
Veronica
Can’t remember the last time she had to clean the bathroom? Somebody shoot her, too.
Dulcie dear,
You seem a little tense or unhappy about the good fortunes of Jocelyn and Veronica. Do we have a bit of an envy problem?
I used to feel the same way. But you know what I’ve learned? The key to inner peace is learning to be content. That’s what the Apostle Paul learned—contentment no matter what. Everything is a blessing—even a dirty bathroom! It really is.
Here’s a challenge for you—the next time you are elbow deep in the toilet bowl, giving it a good scrub, just start praising God for the blessing of having to clean a toilet. And what, you may ask, is there to be thankful for about a dirty toilet?
It means, dear one, that you have a family to make it dirty. Blessings and peace,
Rosalyn
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
Never mind someone else. I’ll shoot her myself.
Dulcie
Fellow loopers,
I think this is a wonderful topic. Thanks, Rosalyn!
Here is my honest confession: I am a pastor’s wife. Rightly or not, we’re held to unreasonably higher standard of behavior than everyone else. But I am also a graduate student with an advisor that, frankly, I can’t stand.
She was my professor this past semester for a class called Women’s Voices: Misogyny, Religion and Community in Early Modern Europe. It was actually a fascinating study about the cultural and political treatment of women during this time period. I absolutely loved the class. We studied primary sources, private journals of women, letters, stories, sermons, books—some were humorous and others were heartbreaking.
My advisor is actually a brilliant woman and an amazing teacher. At first, I was so impressed with her and the research she’s done, that I chose her as my advisor. But I didn’t know until I had her for class this summer what she was really like.
She’s quite the feminist, and when she found out that I am married to a pastor, she made barbed comments about it during class. It was embarrassing and demeaning. And stupid. She’s very intelligent, but her sarcastic remarks made her sound immature and not very bright.
I feel guilty for not liking her. After all, I know that God loves her, and if Jesus were in my shoes, He’d forgive this woman and be able to see past the petty smallness and into her heart.
But for once in my life, I’d like to not do the “spiritually correct” thing. My husband, Jonathan, told me that he thinks God led me to my advisor for a reason. I’m sure He did, but I’m not happy about it at all. A normal person would request an advisement change. A normal person would not put up with this crap.
I, however, don’t feel I have the freedom to be a “normal person.” (No quips about that, you guys!) It would affect my funding for my dissertation, and it would not be good for my reputation. Right now, I’m not too happy about that at all.
So that’s the confession— Ms. Holy Pastor’s Wife doesn’t want to be the “light and love of Christ” to this bitter woman. Ms. Holy Pastor’s Wife is tired of doing the right thing and would like to do the usual human thing of writing her off permanently.
Ms. Holy Pastor’s Wife is grumpy.
Phyllis
Instant Message
ZeeMuzzy: hey phyllis—you trying to bait rosalyn or what?
PhyllisLorimer: No. I just needed to vent.
ZeeMuzzy: well, i don’t blame you. but you know ros is going to have something to say about it.
PhyllisLorimer: Something along the lines of “Thanks for your honesty, dear, but I’m a little concerned about the example you’re setting for the other women. We who are in a position of leadership need to be conscious of what our actions are saying to others,” perhaps?
ZeeMuzzy: precisely
PhyllisLorimer: Too late. I’ve already preached that sermon to myself and the effect lasted about as long as people’s memories of Jonathan’s sermons do on Sunday morning.
ZeeMuzzy: the amount of time it takes for the congregation to walk from their seat to the back of the sanctuary?
PhyllisLorimer: The average for that is 21.6 seconds. So a little less than that, yes.
ZeeMuzzy: poor girl. wish i had something spiritually profound to say.
PhyllisLorimer: I do, too. You know I’d listen.
ZeeMuzzy:
my best advice is avoid checking your email for the next few minutes. any minute here, and you’ll have a rosalyn-bomb in your inbox.
PhyllisLorimer: Happy thought, indeed.
ZeeMuzzy: shouldn’t be long now. wait for it…
PhyllisLorimer: Waiting. Nothing yet.
ZeeMuzzy: wait for it…
PhyllisLorimer: Waiting with anticipation and mortal dread.
ZeeMuzzy: 3…2…1…
How very odd—six hours later and no response! I wonder what happened to her?
Phyllis
Huh. Therapy session run long, maybe?
Z
Okay, y’all… I mean, all of you (sorry Ros),
All y’all (argh, I can’t help it! I may not be native Texan, but I tell you… I have the soul of one!)—anyway, you all have inspired me with your honesty, so here’s what’s going on in lil’ old Ronnie’s corner of the earth…
Ashley’s now thirteen years old, and as determined to make her momma miserable as ever a teenager was. Keeps talking nonsense about how she wants to go live with her “real mom” instead of her dad and me—despite the fact that “Real Mom” sent BACK the Christmas presents the kiddos made for her last year! I know Ashley’s just trying to annoy us, but it’s super irritating to have to admit it works.
Courtney’s nine and Stanley’s seven. And other than the sibling war that the two girls have been waging since…birth, I guess, they’re not doing too badly.
And my baby, Stephenie is eighteen months old now! I shouldn’t phrase it like that, I suppose. I feel like the other three are mine, too, after being the only real mama they’ve ever had for three years now. But y’all know what I mean, I hope.
Lest you start thinking this is sounding an awful lot like a Christmas newsletter, I’m saying all this because of the thing I want to talk about for this Honesty topic of the week thingy.
Frank, my sweet Francesco, has been telling me that since the kids are getting older and especially with Ashley being a pain in the behind lately, and also since he wants to avoid the mistakes he made with his ex…
He thinks we should try attending church! His family back in Italy is 100% Catholic, and he’s wanting to check out our local parish.
I know most of you all on this loop are churchgoing folks, so this is where that hard-core honesty is coming in for me. I’m not real sold on the idea of going to church. I don’t think it’s very responsible of us to expect religion to solve our problems or fix our kids. You all are generally sincere and genuine people, and I respect that. I’m just not sure I’m the religious type.
But Frank really is pushing for it. I told him if he wanted to take the kids and go, I wouldn’t put up a fuss. But he doesn’t want to go without me. Not sure if there’s a sentimental reason for that or if he just doesn’t want to handle all four kids by himself. But we’re kinda at a standoff with it.
And that there’s my confession. Hey…confession! I don’t need to go to church. I’ve got all of you.
Veronica
Dia daoibh! (“Hi there” in Gaelic),
I will not reveal my given name, but I am called Iona—ever since I discovered that my great-great-grandmother was born there. I had a dream about her three years ago and she called me “her Iona.” When I woke up, I knew I had been renamed. I’m studying Gaelic, but it’s slow going because I don’t have anyone to practice it with.
I am a poet and songwriter for my husband’s band, Broken Wrench and Copper Bucket. I’ve recently joined your lovely little brigade because the Angel Child (my ten-month-old, Gabriel) and I are trying to learn our Life Dance with each other a bit better—and we’ve been stepping on each other’s toes too much.
My moment of utter honesty is thus:
I never intended to become a mother. What started as a moment of passion has become a never-ending progression of confusion. I love the Angel Child, but I don’t understand him. And the more I become his mother, the less I understand myself, as well.
I can’t share further with you right now, but I will in time. At the moment, I’m waiting for Francine to return. I was soaking up the beauty of God’s Word this morning and felt a strong urge to open the Bible to a random page. Every time that happens, it’s always a life-changing moment for me. So I did, and my finger landed on Psalm 141:2 “May my prayers be counted as incense before Thee; the lifting up of my hands as the evening offering.”
And I knew. It was clear to me that God was calling me to burn incense in our apartment so that we would no longer view prayer as something we do, but something we live. So I took the Angel Child and was on my way to a Tats ’N Wicks shop three blocks away to buy incense. But the Angel Child’s diaper sprung a leak about a block from our apartment. Just as I turned around to go home, a woman appeared and asked if she could help me. She said her name was Francine, and that she has eight children of her own and spent twenty years as a stay-at-home mother. I gave her twenty dollars and asked her to pick out something that smelled like Jesus and bring it to my apartment.
I believe God gave me that scripture verse so I would meet Francine today. She’s a treasure and blessing. She looks like a homeless prostitute—probably a meth addict. But Jesus visits us in the most unlikely disguises.
We’re going to invite her to live with us for a while.
May you live in the divine mystery of God, my friends, Iona James
What was THAT???
Brenna
I have no idea, but I think it’s gone now. Do you suppose it will come back?
Jocelyn
It? She was beautiful, and I hope she does come back. Don’t scare her off, understand? I think I’m in love…
Phyllis
Hi Krissy,
U R so NOT going to believe this. I joined this loop for stay-at-home moms this week, and they’re like really bizarre. The loop moderator just got out of some sort of mental hospital, I think. I guess she crawled into a coffin because she thought her husband was having an affair with a Lesbian! Can u imagine?
And then her sister is even worse! She’s not even a Christian. And she married a divorced guy! The scariest part is…he was raised CATHOLIC! In Italy, where the pope lives! He’s trying to talk her into going to church again. But she says she’s not “the religious type.” And they actually let her post on the loop!
There’s another new girl this week, too. She’s psycho. She has a ten-month-old baby, and she’s inviting a prostitute to live with her and her husband! I would NEVER be so totally stupid! If a prostitute even looked at my Bradley, she’d be sorry! Is sharing your home with a homeless hooker even Biblical? Nobody in our church would ever do that, I’m sure. What if she tempts the husband to, you know, SIN or something? And she thinks God told her to burn incense, too! I’m pretty certain incense is new age. You can’t be new age and still believe in Jesus, can you?
So I’m hugely bummed. I thought this was going to be a loop full of Christian SAHMs like me—well, sure, I figured they’d be a little older than me. But these people are really weird. I don’t think they’re what I’d exactly call “Christian” even.
I thought about just unsubscribing from the loop. But I really am very lonely without you here. Bradley is nice and all, but it’s SO not the same as having a best girlfriend. I decided not to leave the loop just yet, because maybe it’ll be better and I’ll meet some normal moms. I don’t want to be all like judgmental or anything, you know?
Well, write me and tell me all about Hawaii. YouTube it and send me some pics, okay?
BFF,
Hannah
Hey you! Hawaii is awesome. Check out the attached pics. Tried 2 txt them 2 u, but they were 2 big. Weird about that mom loop. U going 2 stay on loop? Lots of my new friends are kinda whacked like that 2. But they r fun. Lots better than our stuffy old high school! I told them all about South Carolina Crusading Lambs of God High School. They think it’s the best joke. LOL! I gotta run. Some of the guys in our group are taking me surfing this afternoon. We did all our research/school stuff this morning. Can you imagine— I’m going surfing with hot guys! My parents would totally freak out, but there’s nothing they can do about it. It’s great to be FREE!
LUV U!!!!
Kris
Hi ladies,
It looks like I’m about the last one to check in this week on the TOTW. Here’s something I bet no guy up until now has confessed to in your hearing:
I’m sitting at my computer wearing a plastic jeweled princess crown on my head and strap-on fairy wings on my back. My sparkle wand is on the desk. And I’m having a great time!
MacKenzie is playing Cinderella, and I’m her Fairy Godmother. Two years ago, if you’d suggested that I’d ever make a statement like that (or be dressed like this), I probably would never have talked to you again. But since then, I’ve discovered that only a real man has the courage to play make-believe with his daughter. She tried to put dress-up heels on me, but my feet were too big…thankfully.
Whoa, gotta go. Sounds like Mac has given the twins the choice between being the ugly stepsisters or the mice. They’re not happy. Tom
Awww, Tom!!! Fairy wings and a tiara? This is the only (and I do mean ONLY) context I’d ever say this in, but… THAT IS SO DARN CUTE! Aw, you’re a good dad. A really, really good dad!
Rock on, Tiara-man!
Z
There’s a MAN on the loop???
This is supposed to be a loop for MOMS! How am I supposed to be all share-y and open if there’s a guy lurking around? I can’t talk about…you know… STUFF—in front of a man!
What kind of a weird place is this? What wife would ever be idiotic enough to let her husband on a loop full of other women?
What is WRONG with you people?
Hannah
Hannah,
I’m the “idiot” who “lets” her husband on a loop with other women. Charmed to meet you.
If you have a problem with our loop, you’re welcome to find yourself a different loop that is more to your liking. We voted to let Tom join our loop, and he’s been a great addition.
If you don’t feel comfortable discussing things in front of him, that’s your problem, not his. He is the most trustworthy, sympathetic, sweetest person in the whole world, and anyone who decides not to take the time to get to know him is a big-time loser.
Stay-at-home dads need encouragement and friendship, too. There’s no reason why only moms should get that privilege.
I knew you were young, but good grief! Apparently, you haven’t gotten past the “Ew, boys have cooties” stage yet.
Sincerely,
Dulcie Huckleberry
Go ahead and slap my wrist now, Rosalyn. I’m so angry, I don’t care at the moment.
Dulcie
I should. I really should. But… I’ll let it go this time. The line about boy cooties was worth it. However, Dulcie dear, would you like to borrow one of my books on anger management? I’m sure you would find it so helpful!
Go soak in a nice bubble bath with candles—relieving stress and anxiety will go a long way to helping you control your temper.
Much love,
Rosalyn
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.”Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
Rosalyn was just nice to me.
Rosalyn. Yes, THAT Rosalyn.
She was nice.
To me.
I’ve been wandering around the last ten minutes repeating this to myself and still can’t grasp it. My brain has exploded. I feel as if I’ve entered a Twilight Zone episode.
There’s something very weird afoot. Very weird, indeed.
Dulcie
Instant Message
Huck: How’s my damsel in shining armor doing?
Dulcet: Still steamed.
Huck: You didn’t have to do that, you know.
Dulcet: Do what?
Huck: Defend me. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.
Dulcet: Of course you can. But you really think I was going to let that little brat publicly slam you without saying a word in protest?
Huck: Well, it would have shocked me if you had.
Dulcet: We stick together. Attack one, and you tangle with us both. You’d have done the same for me.
Huck: Sure. But only if you weren’t able to do it yourself. I was going to post a reply of my own, you know.
Dulcet: Oh. Really?
Huck: Yeah. Was working on it when yours posted. It was going to be a good post, I think.
Dulcet: Not a rant like mine, huh?
Huck: A gentler rant. Remember, I’m on the loop strictly because of everyone’s good will. I have to be a little more diplomatic.
Dulcet: You’re not going to be able to send yours now, huh?
Huck: Probably not. Wouldn’t want to keep things stirred up.
Dulcet: I’m sorry.
Huck: Forgiven. You sure you’re okay? Her post wasn’t that bad, you know. Lots of those women had stronger objections when you first brought up the idea of me joining the loop.
Dulcet: I lost the Kerrick account.
Huck: Whoa.
Dulcet: They called today and cancelled—said they’re definitely getting a divorce. They still have to pay me for the design work to this point, but nothing more.
Huck: Okay, so we
Dulcet: I think it’ll be enough to make the bills for this month and part of next, but I don’t have any more clients! I can’t even talk to any of the clients from my previous job. And the ads I placed aren’t bringing in enough inquiries.
Huck: Dulcie, let’s
Dulcet: I’m going to fail! I was stupid for even trying this.
Huck: No, you weren’t.
Dulcet: What are we going to do? I should have done something. Stopped it from happening. I could have fixed it. I didn’t try hard enough.
Huck: DULCIE!
Dulcet: What?
Huck: Don’t you think we should take this conversation out to the living room couch? I can’t hold you when I’m typing.
Dulcet: Yeah…that sounds good.
Dulcet signed off at 5:01:56 p.m.
Huck signed off at 5:01:58 p.m.
Text Message From Jeff Ebberly: For Rosalyn Ebberly
——June 15 10:13 a.m.——
Mom, jst got n fyt. Im k. Nt my falt. Principel wl cll u. Sry. Jeff.
Marvelous Mommies,
After last week’s scintillating discussion on forgiveness, I thought we should turn our attention to a topic sure to warm and encourage every mother’s heart:
Meeting the needs of our children.
I’ve had to learn the hard way that EVERYTHING we do as mothers—every word, every glance, every touch—deeply affects our children for the rest of their lives!
So when you shrieked, “Can’t you be quiet for just ONE SECOND?” after breakfast this morning? Sliced their tender little souls like a piece of deli ham. They’ll forever struggle with voicing their own wants and needs. Assertiveness will never come easy for them and they’ll probably get taken advantage of by every emotional manipulator who crosses their path.
When you said you were too tired to read your son a book? Five years from now, that moment will fester into resentment that will cause him to punch another child in summer school. Ten years from now, it will blossom into a full-scale rebellion that will get him kicked out of school and placed into a juvenile detention center.
Every time you pushed their eager little hands away and impatiently told them, “here, let me do it”…it was one more blow to their fragile sense of worth. It will probably result in a total inability to sustain meaningful relationships as adults.
Not to mention a permanent spelling handicap.
How many wounds we inflict on our children every hour of every day! It’s no wonder they end up so screwed up. And it’s our fault as mothers for not meeting their emotional needs.
So let’s encourage each other on how we can do better at not ruining our children. Obviously, it’s not an easy task, considering that our own parents did a thorough job of wounding us to the point where we wouldn’t recognize a healthy psyche if it tackled us to the sidewalk. But as adults and mothers, it’s our responsibility to try to do better with the next generation, even if it kills us.
Blessings,
Rosalyn Ebberly
SAHM I Am Loop Moderator
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
Ooookay. Looks like somebody needs to dial back on her happy pills… WAY too cheerful this morning!
Z
Z,
Did you realize that note went to the SAHM loop instead of our Green Eggs and Ham group? ROSALYN saw it! You’d better apologize quick. She’s going to be SO mad!
Dulcie
Hey gorgeous mom-babes, (and Tom, of course)
Hope nobody took my previous message too seriously. Just trying to lighten the mood on this Monday. It’s rainy and foggy here in Baltimore—needed to cheer myself up a bit.
No offense intended.
Z
Instant Message
Pr31Mom: Zelia, dear.
ZeeMuzzy: ros, honey.
Pr31Mom: Thank you for your apology on the loop.
ZeeMuzzy: no prob. you know i could never bear the thought of offending anyone.
Pr31Mom: Of course not. You’re sweetness itself.
ZeeMuzzy: takes one to know one, babe.
Pr31Mom: That’s kind of you to say so. I hope you are feeling sufficiently cheered now?
ZeeMuzzy: vastly.
Pr31Mom: Great. Well, then, I’ll let you get back to your day. Since I’m sure you’re far too busy for more loop humor today, we’ll have to just get along without the giggles. Okay?
ZeeMuzzy: you never know. i might have a few spare moments later on.
Pr31Mom: That’s a relief. Wouldn’t want you to be too stressed out.
ZeeMuzzy: yes, because you’re just that kind of compassionate person, aren’t you.
Pr31Mom: Zelia, I’m serious—
ZeeMuzzy signed off at 2:38:02 p.m.
This is the biggest pile of male cow manure I have ever read in my life! First off, Rosalyn, your parents did not screw you up. You want to compare dysfunctions? You all know I had Maddy at age sixteen. Yep, teen mom. I was the poster child for dysfunction. It would be easy for me to whine and say it was the fault of my parents—they were no Clair and Cliff Huxtable for sure. But my family was no worse than many of my friends’ and not all of them became teen moms. I made my own choices. We all do. So if your life has a lot of problems, then it’s up to you to make the choices you need to make in order to fix those problems.
As far as our kids go— I doubt any of us on this loop are doing anything less than our best for our kids. We’re not going to get it right all the time. Our kids will survive. At least they have so far. Guilt trips and self-loathing for our shortcomings are only going to make it harder to see what our kids really need. And when it comes down to it, our kids are the only ones who can actually make their lives successful and fulfilling. They have to choose to be that way. We can’t guarantee it for them.
You want to meet your kids’ needs? Stop being so hard on yourself. They need a mom who isn’t drowning in self-inflicted condemnation. Or whining. A mom who is happy and still realistic about who she is and her own weaknesses. And who isn’t afraid to make changes to improve but who doesn’t beat herself up for her imagined failures.
By the way—who won the fight?
Brenna
Girrrrrl!!!!!
Um, am I a good “girrrrl” or a bad “girrrrrl”?
You are an amazing, gutsy, tough-as-nails, I’m-in-awe, totally correct, couldn’t-have-said-it-better-myself, wish-I’d-have-said-it-first, love you to pieces…girrrrrrl!!!
Z
I sort of like don’t really agree—with either Rosamund or Brenda. I think it’s better to just not do all those mean things to our kids in the first place. Then we don’t have to worry about messing them up. And there’s lots and lots of books about child development that will explain everything you need to know about what kids need.
Most moms have trouble with that because they aren’t focusing on their kids like they should. I’m totally into hanging out with friends and stuff, but my little Boaz always comes first. ’Cause I’m his mommy and that’s what mommies do— I’m the center of his world, and as long as he feels secure about that, he won’t ever have any problems.
I’m always into keeping it simple, you know? And it doesn’t get more simple than that—just being there for them. All the time, any time.
Hannah
Hannah,
Thank you so much for sharing that incredible nugget of wisdom. I’m very impressed with the depth of the insight you’ve gained from just two months of motherhood and a handful of parenting books. We must never underestimate the power of the written word combined with our own deep maternal instincts. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before—all I have to do to make my children happy is be everything to them! It really is that simple. Thanks, honey. You’ve changed the entire course of my life.
ROSALYN
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
Really? Wow! I’m SOOOO relieved. I was afraid you’d all be like ticked off at me for disagreeing with you. I really DO love my books—everything I know about kids comes straight off those pages. Since you were so interested in them, I posted a list of them in the loop files.
The newest book I have is about how to educate infants. I’m going to teach Boaz sign language so he won’t ever feel frustrated about not being able to communicate his needs. Then we can avoid all those nasty temper tantrums later on.
And the book also talks about how important it is to make good faces at our babies. Did you know that if you frown and talk to a baby in an angry tone of voice before they’re two years old, it will cause brain damage? I’m totally serious! So this book says you should always approach your baby with a big smile on your face, even if he’s crying. Otherwise, you could scar a kid for life!!!
Gotta go— Boaz needs me to grin at him some more. Sometimes I just sit and smile at him for a half hour at a time. I’m hoping it will make up for any frowns he might have accidentally seen on other people.
Hannah
Did anyone else find this idea a bit creepy? Reminds me of a clown. I was terrified of clowns when I was little.
Marianne
Hate to break it to you, Marianne, but there are clowns on SAHM I Am—and they’ve been posting all morning!
My goodness, has Rosalyn learned NOTHING from the disaster that is her life the past two years? And that Hannah… I’m sorry, but nineteen-year-olds have NO business being parents. I can say that because I had a three-year-old by that time, and I was totally clueless. The difference is that I made a mistake by being a teen mom. But Hannah?
She did it on purpose!
It makes me furious. And the weird thing is I really don’t know why. It’s her life. Her business. But everything in me just screams that it was a stupid decision. Maybe getting married at eighteen was fine for women hundreds of years ago, but it’s foolish now.
I know… I must sound like a grumpy middle-aged woman. She just gets on my nerves.
Brenna
Text Message From Jeannine Hash: For Dulcie Huckleberry
——June 16/7:45 a.m.——
Hi i just got a cell phone with text messaging sorry for no punctuation but i cant find it do you want me to ask some of my friends if they need a decorator text messages take a lot of time to write this one took me 20 minutes
Text Message From Dulcie Huckleberry: For Jeannine Hash
——June 16/10:01 a.m.——
Thx 4 offer, mom. But no need. No big deal. Get more clients soon. Write shorter mssg, takes less time.
Dear Friends,
As many of you know, my daughter-in-law, Dulcie, has been working ever so hard the past few months to start her own interior design business. Well, things just aren’t going so well! She could only get one client, and they’ve dumped her because they decided to get a divorce after meeting with Dulcie!
It would just break my heart to see her fail! She’s trying to support the whole family—three children and a “house husband.” Poor thing—it’s just not right for a woman to have such a burden on her. But I know how that feels— I was a single mom for years before marrying my beloved Morris.
So I’m starting a “let’s help Dulcie” campaign! We all could use some home decorating help, right? And I know many of you are…shall we say… “gifted” with plenty of financial resources (Hi, Mr. Tabuchi!!!) so there’s no reason not to hire my daughter-in-law. You’ll get a prettier house or theater or office building, and she’ll be able to put food on the table.
She really is the sweetest little thing. And very talented, too! You all should see how she decorated the bedroom for her twins—a woodland fairy theme with hand-painted trees and twelve fairies hidden in different corners and crannies all over the room! Who wouldn’t want such a good mom working on their project?
You should look at her Web site: www.homemakerin-teriors.com and give her a call! Besides, I’m fixing to make a whole new batch of my famous peach butter later this summer. I’d be more likely to give jars of it to people who are supportive of my kids. :)
Blessings,
Jeanine Hash
P.S. Please feel free to forward this to lots and lots of people!!!
Mom, tell me you did NOT just send that message to Shoji Tabuchi! The “hi Mr. Tabuchi” referred to some other guy and NOT the Branson megastar with the most-photographed theater bathrooms in America… RIGHT???
By the way, who ELSE was on your friends list???
Dulcie
Well, of course I sent it to Shoji, darling! He’s been my employer and Morris’s employer for years, and a good friend, too. Not to mention how sweet he was in letting us have our wedding ceremony at his theater! Wasn’t it beautiful—with Morris on the white horse and us girls floating down on stage from sparkly stars? It seems like it was just yesterday…
Anyway, Mr. Tabuchi knows a LOT of people, dear. Plus, if you were able to do a project for him or his family, just think of all the business you’d get!
As for who I sent the e-mail to? Well, everyone I know—which is nearly all of Branson and half of Springfield! Just consider me your marketing and PR machine, sweetie.
Love,
Jeanine
Text Message From Dulcie Huckleberry: For Tom Huckleberry
——June 16/10:08 a.m.——
I’m going to kill your mother. Just wanted to warn you. How is the park?
Text Message From Tom Huckleberry: For Dulcie Huckleberry
——June 16/10:12 a.m.——
Park is fine. Girls having fun. Will it be Dulcie, with the candlestick, in the library?
Text Message From Dulcie Huckleberry: For Tom Huckleberry
——June 16/10:14 a.m.——
Hah! Candlestick 2 gentle 4 her. Will be me, in kitchen, drowning her in own peach butter.
Text Message From Tom Huckleberry: For Dulcie Huckleberry
——June 16/10:15 a.m.——
Yikes! Why? Or do I have 2 wait 4 testimony at trial?
Text Message From Dulcie Huckleberry: For Tom Huckleberry
——June 16/10:15 a.m.——
Plea will be temporary insanity. Hers. Xplain at home.
“This” being my house. I can’t figure it out. Something smells awful! Like garbage—only I’ve emptied every single trash can in the entire house. I even rinsed them all out with bleach and water! I scrubbed the fridge, replaced the baking soda in there, and put baking soda down all the drains. I cleaned the toilets, the microwave, and even did all the laundry.
And it still reeks!
I’m so mad! All that work, and for nothing!
Zelia
How can you say it was all for nothing? You got your house cleaned, didn’t you? And at least you didn’t have a stranger scrubbing your toilets.
Jocelyn
Joc, babe, are you still whining and moaning about the pain of having someone clean your house FOR you? I love you, girl, but… Get. A. Grip.
As for my own housecleaning efforts (done by the sweat of my brow and the grease of my elbow, I might add)…it was for nothing because I was trying to get rid of the garbage smell in my house. I was not trying to clean my house. If I’d known that all that cleaning was still not going to help, I would have saved myself the trouble.
And we did have near-strangers victimized by our olfactory pollution. My DH Tristan had a coworker and her husband over for dinner last night. It wasn’t until after we were done eating that we first noticed the problem. I thought Tristan had forgotten to take out the garbage like I asked him to.
I kept jerking my head toward the kitchen, trying to signal to him that we needed to talk privately. The blockhead. (Whom I love with all my heart, but still…) Totally oblivious.
Carla, his work colleague (who happens to have just been made a partner in his firm—somebody he needs to impress), started sniffing the air. I pretended I wasn’t watching. Then she checked the bottoms of her shoes.
DUH—it wasn’t that kind of smell. Anybody ought to have known that!
Then she leaned over, like she was getting something out of her purse, but I could tell she was smelling under her arms.
Tacky. But it was making me nervous. Something reeked. In my house! And one of the partners of Tristan’s company was definitely noticing it!
I excused myself to the kitchen and checked the garbage can. It had a few scraps in it from fixing dinner, but nothing that smelled. In fact, the kitchen didn’t smell as bad as the family room.
By the time the couple left, both of them looked like they were going to pass out soon from trying not to take any deep breaths. They gave us these tiny frozen smiles and scuttled out of the house. I’m almost certain I heard them both gasping for air before we had barely shut the door.
I am utterly mortified! I spent all day trying to track this down and no such luck!
Tristan apparently has a nearly nonexistent sense of smell. He thinks I’m imagining the whole thing—including Carla’s little sniff-check.
Next on my list—bathing all the kids.
Z
A quote, in your honor, Zelia:
“Something is rotten in the state of Maryland.”—slight paraphrase from Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 4
Seriously, I wouldn’t be overly concerned. I doubt it’s as bad as you think it is. And it might be something outside—like a sewer pipe or your neighbors’ trash cans or something.
Phyllis
Ack! My own Shakespeare predilection thrown back at me. A perfect example of this:
“Hoist with his own petard.” (Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 4) You want to have a Shakespeare war, girlfriend? I’ll win.
And I’m not overreacting. I know a bad stink when I smell it! And last night after dinner, definitely “there was the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril.” (The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act 3, Scene 5)
TOP THAT!
Z
Oh no! Everyone take cover! The Great Shakespeare Quote War has broken out again! Run for your lives!!! Or as the Bard would say: “Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!”
Brenna
Ah, Brenna… I salute you, Mistress Lindburg. You are truly magnificent. Here’s one for you:
“Methinks a woman of this valiant spirit
Should, if a coward heard her speak these words,
Infuse his breast with magnanimity
And make him, naked, foil a man at arms.”
(King Henry VI Part iii, Act 5, Scene 4)
Z
That’s NOT a real Shakespeare quote! Shakespeare would never have written about naked…people in his plays! That’s not appropriate to joke about! I studied Romeo and Juliet last year in Senior English, and there wasn’t ONE mention of anything remotely risqué!!!
Hannah
Hannah, out of curiosity…what school did you attend?
South Carolina Crusading Lambs of God Christian High School. Affectionately knows as SCCLOG. Their academic quality is unsurpassable. I tied for valedictorian with my best friend, Krissy.
Hannah
Ah. Congratulations. And you studied the entire play of Romeo and Juliet? The original, unabridged version?
Yes, the WHOLE thing! Like I said, SCCLOG is a very advanced school academically. Three of my graduating class even went to college! I was going to go to college, but I met Bradley instead.
Hannah
Thanks for the clarification. I’m just a little confused. How did you manage to study the entire play Romeo and Juliet and come away with the impression that Shakespeare was NOT in any way risqué?
Did no one ever explain to you the Queen Mab speech, honey?
Phyllis
Down girl! Behave yourself. Lest you bring the wrath of Rosalyn down on all our heads.
Z
Hi Phyllis,
I’m SOOO like not confrontational or anything, but Shakespeare happens to be something I know about. I got an A+ in that class!!!
I know all about the Queen Mab speech. Mercutio was talking about a dream fairy, like Tinker Bell or the Sugar Plum Fairy. What’s so risqué about that?
It’s impossible for Shakespeare to have written anything naughty. After all, he wrote hundreds of years ago, when people were a lot more pure-minded and innocent. We all should try to be more like that instead of making inappropriate remarks about things that are immodest.
I’m not trying to be a prude or anything. I mean, after all I AM a married woman! But I love Shakespeare, and I don’t like to see his reputation ruined—especially not on an e-mail list of (mostly) Christian stay-at-home moms! I’m sure William Shakespeare loved Jesus—everyone did back then. He most certainly did NOT write about naked people fencing. I’m very offended by the suggestion and by the images that brings to mind.
I’d like to ask the loop moderator to bring this topic to a close. It doesn’t even have anything to do with stay-at-home mom stuff!
Hannah
P.S. Zelia, your smelly-house problem reminded me of what happened at my school my junior year. Some boys stuffed some tuna fish sandwiches down the air vents and the whole school smelled like rotten fish for weeks.
Well, Hannah, it does sound like your English teacher did an interesting job with your education. Here’s a quote in her honor, from As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7:
“And in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit
After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm’d
With observation, the which he vents
In mangled forms.”
Love,
Phyllis
I don’t get it. But I heard that you weren’t very good with humor, so that’s probably why.
Hannah
Before our Beloved Moderator puts an end to this conversation, I just wanted to let everyone know I found the source of our stink problem. Hannah’s comment about the tuna fish sandwiches at her school gave me an idea.
We live in an older house with old-fashioned air ducts. Big enough for food to be shoved through. I had Tristan check the ductwork when he got home this evening, and sure enough, there’s so much old food rotting in one of the ducts that we could start our own compost pile.
At first, I figured Seamus did it. Almost any trouble in our family is a direct result of that boy. But the duct connects to Duri’s room. Duri is one of the children we adopted from Ethiopia about fifteen months ago. We asked him if he knew anything about the food in the duct, and at first he said no.
We showed him the food. He stared at it like he’d never seen it before. Then he said something about “That’s not my food. I’m saving my food.”
To make a very long story about an even longer, depressing evening short, it comes down to this:
Duri has started hoarding food. He sneaks it to his room and shoves it down the air vent.
I don’t get it! We feed him plenty! And there’s always snacks available. I know he and his sister didn’t have much to eat in the orphanage, but they’ve been with us over a year. Why would he suddenly start doing this?
I don’t think he even knows why. He doesn’t even connect his actions with the pile of food in the duct. He says he’s not hungry, and he has plenty to eat. I don’t think he’s really even aware of what he’s doing.
And to make matters worse, Seamus is mad at me now for accusing him of doing it. And he’s mad because we didn’t punish Duri. But I don’t think Duri was trying to be naughty. It’s not the same, but Seamus doesn’t understand.
I’m going to have to call our doctor in the morning and maybe see about taking Duri to a psychologist. I’m more than a little freaked out. And we’re going to have to get our ducts cleaned out.
But after that—what am I going to do? I don’t want to become the Food Police, but we can’t let him hoard food like that. What if he’d eaten it later? He’d make himself sick.
All right, Ros—you got me. I’m answering your TOTW. Apparently, I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MEET MY KIDS’ NEEDS! Otherwise, Duri wouldn’t be stuffing food down the air vents, and Seamus wouldn’t be glaring at me as if I’d betrayed him.
Z
How can I meet the needs of the Angel Child when I can’t even meet my own needs? The poetry that used to flow from me has been replaced by a steady stream of milk that never seems to satisfy a growing boy. He’s growing—but am I? I feel like the host of a parasite— I’m providing nourishment by having the life sucked from me.
I want to write! I want to create. I know the Angel Child should be my greatest poetry, but it’s a poem that drains me. I need something that will refresh my soul so I can keep giving.
In other news, Francine—the homeless woman we tried to help—has gone back to selling her body to buy meth. She was a stay-at-home mom for over twenty years. And I can’t help but wonder if someday that will be me—used up, empty, hopeless.
Whoa! That’s a thought. In fact, I think it might be a poem! I think I’ll call it “Weaning.” Thank God for dark, depressing thoughts! Life has been way too cheerful recently, and I’ve had absolutely no inspiration.
I must be off to my writing corner. Angel Child is sleeping. Maybe I’ll be extra blessed by him waking up crying. The inner turmoil that creates in me is fantastic for truly tortured emotions!
Iona James
Are you INSANE? If you want turmoil and pain, I’ll be glad to send you some from our household. I understand your creative drive, but, dear one—you should be glad your baby is healthy, and that there’s only one “angel child” to drain your energy. You’re not going to end up on the street unless you choose to be there. Can’t you find inspiration in a less masochistic way?
Rosalyn Ebberly
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
You killed it. You killed my poem. It was there, ready to be poured out on the page in all its raw glory. But now it’s gone, slaughtered by your optimistic good sense. First truly promising burst of inspiration I’ve had in weeks. Dead. My poetry, killed by your happy prose. That’s tragic.
In fact…this might work out even better. How about a song called “When the Poetry Dies”? Ooohhh…thanks, Rosalyn, for the inspiration.
But do not e-mail me again, for at least…a few hours! You’re not depressed and twisted enough. You’ll jeopardize the entire work!
Iona James
How dare she say I’m not depressed enough! When she’s been through what I’ve been through, THEN let her accuse me of having “optimistic good sense”! And “happy prose”? I’m insulted! I am in a very delicate mental condition. What does she know about it anyway?
Poets and their need for tortured angst. So annoying.
Ros
“The wise woman builds her house, but the foolish tears it down with her own hands.” Proverbs 14:1 (NASB)
Well, sis, you’re certainly twisted enough.
Veronica
Hey Iona,
I just wanted to see if you got that thing written. If not, don’t read any more of this e-mail because it’s supposed to be encouraging! :)
Listen, I know it’s hard to do creative stuff when the kids are little. I’m an artist, too, not that you’d know it recently. But it sounds like you’re doing the right thing—grabbing the time and the inspiration as it comes. It won’t be like this forever. Almost, but not quite forever.
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