Some Stories

So, here are just a couple of stories from things going on in the Rush Home, and at the end, a little moral that I have been thinking about a lot these past few days...

Story One: Why I Fall Down A Lot

I fall down a lot. Not in a lovely allegorical way where I fail at things, although that is true. But in the most literal way. See, I am five foot eight (tall for a lady) and I am, let's say, top heavy. I also have incredibly small feet. Like size six. Like I can still buy kid's shoes. And because of this, I picture myself to be a rather large structure balanced precariously on a rather small platform. It is why I am a terrible dancer. And it is why I fall down.

So yesterday, I bit it big time. And alas, I cannot blame it on my feet. It is because I am also unabashedly clumsy. I was carrying a big stack of linens to the bedroom, forgot that we had moved a shelf out of the closet, tripped over it and fell...Hard. The shelf was one of those plastic things that holds underwear and socks...Like those crates you see in dorm rooms with the holes in the sides...Know what I mean? Well, two of my toes managed to get caught IN the holes (why I was walking with my toes apparently splayed so far out this could happen is a mystery) and in trying to disentangle my toes, I twisted my knee. I also broke a toe. I bruised another. I fell ON the shelf as I drug it along with me into the bedroom and commandeered a bruise over 3 inches long on my leg. BUT, I landed on the linens I was carrying. So all that falling, and I actually landed on some pillows! But the problem is, I never would have fallen if I hadn't been carrying them. They blocked my view of the shelf. Ahhh, they were my savior and my demise.
The End.

Story Two: If You Sing Loudly, Someone Will Hear You

For those of you who don't know, our house is in our landlord's back yard. It is like a little guest house with 3 bedrooms and 1500 square feet. We have a patio, but no lawn, and our kitchen window actually opens into the landlord's patio and yard area. Also, for those of you who don't know, I listen to country music. It's a dirty little secret. But I am actually trained in singing it. Take vocal lessons in a small town in Oklahoma, and they will actually teach you how to put that twang in...My high school choir teacher took four years trying to get it back out again. Anyway, I listen to it. And I like it. And I sing along with it...LOUD. Today, I told Luke, "If I'm gonna be barefoot, in the kitchen, I might as well listen to country." And so I was, barefoot, in the kitchen, doing dishes and belting out Patty Loveless with the stereo.
Luke takes the kids outside to play, and I actually turn the radio UP to sing some louder. And I look up out the window and see Earl, my landlord in his backyard. I slowly turn from the sink, pause the stereo and go outside to Luke. "You couldn't hear me could you?" He says, "Yes. Brother has been looking for you." "YOU COULDN'T HEAR ME SINGING COULD YOU?" I ask again. Catching on, Luke says, "No, I couldn't." in that way that totally meant he was lying. Well, I should have sold tickets.
The End.

Story Three: If the Landlord Can Hear You Singing, He Can Also See You In Your Panties

Tonight I took a shower. This is a blissful occurrence for me, because I admittedly do not shower very often. You show me a stay-at-home Mom with 15 minutes to herself everyday, and I will show you all my Unicorns and Rainbows with little pots of Gold at the end. So tonight I took a shower...With Helen. And when I was done, I went downstairs to get dressed. Now my parents are coming to visit tomorrow, so I have been cleaning like mad. And regardless of the fact that I do laundry about twice a week, we will always have about 5 unfinished loads. Kids are messy. So are Husbands. So I stop in the middle of getting dressed (oh, did I mention I am manic about cleaning?) to change the load of laundry that has finished. So I go to the dryer and pull out the clothes and pile them on my bed across the hall. And I am standing folding the laundry listening to the sounds of Luke and the kids above my head. They were all chasing a balloon around the upstairs when I left. And they are all laughing and thumping above me. So I have one of those really wonderful moments when you realize that life is really great and you have great kids and a great spouse and you realize that you are blessed and you REALIZE THAT THE CURTAINS ARE OPEN ABOVE THE WASHER AND DRYER AND THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THE BACKYARD OF YOUR LANDLORD'S HOUSE AND THAT YOU ARE STANDING FOLDING A TOWEL IN YOU LITTLE UNDERPANTS AND THAT SLUTTY CROSBY STILLS AND NASH TANK TOP YOU LIKE TO SLEEP IN!!!!! It was truly a wonderful moment.

The Moral Of My Stories

I have long since outlived my desire to prove much of anything to anybody. Most of you who read this know me fairly well. You know I have always had a pretty easy go of telling people "what I really think." But the truth is, I spent years running scared and burning bridges and destroying relationships because I hated to think that people didn't like me unless I didn't like them first. Now there is truth to the fact that people generally really like me, or REALLY don't. That I have come to terms with. But the other stuff...the impressing people, the witty banter and pressure to BE...I'm just through with it. I just want to LIVE. RIGHT NOW. Like no body's looking. I want to fall down and sing loud and fold clothes in my panties BECAUSE I CAN. Because I love me. And because my husband loves me. And I got friends who love me. And if other people don't love me, well...Why would I want to be friends with that anyway!? I want to live everyday of my life like that day one year ago when Luke and I prayed and said, "Let's Move To Wyoming!" It was this crazy rush. There was a lot of giddy laughing. A lot of "OH MY GOSH! Are we gonna do this?" And we did. And we try to live everyday like that now. Lord, if I didn't do something everyday that would probably make most people think me certifiable then I just wouldn't be me. So my moral? Live life. Make the choices that are right for you (with the help of God and Jesus, of course) and right for the people you love. And if you are happy, you give Happy to others. Misery may love company, but being joyful sure rubs off, too. And embrace your life right now. Stop waiting for life to come to you. Stop waiting to start living it until you are at X point financially or until you are at X point in your career. Live THIS life. Find life in falling down and singing loud and acting like a fool. You get up every morning and put on your clown-suit. It's a way better way to live.