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Monday
Jan152007
I'm giving up.
January 15, 2007
Last week I may have mentioned something to the world at large about how my Saturdays are absolutely, for-surely, positively going to be restful. I'm just not having it anymore, I said. I need to rest. Can't go go go like this. Dude, I believe in the whole Sabbath thing, day of rest and all. Not legalistically, but it's a good way to live.Â
Sometimes it's just not up to me, though. For instance, this Saturday, the one that I was so intense about, went something like this:
By 9:00 AM, I had already called poison control because Kid A had a moment of out of control sugar craving while he was supposed to be going to the bathroom, climbed up on the toilet seat, opened the childproof bottle of children's ibuprofen, and drank the whole thing. Tom the poison control man on the phone was calm, but I suspect he's always calm. I actually wondered if they hired him because of his soothing voice. He assured me that Kid A would probably be fine, but that I should be listening for any complaints of a sore tummy, though. "Just don't suggest it to him," he advised, "the idea of a sore tummy." You don't have to tell me that twice.Â
Kid A was fine. Aside from a massive, enormous sugar high, though. Â
By 9:30 a new friend had shown up (this was actually the high point of the day) to do some volunteer electrical work on one of our cabins. He ended up fixing the problem, which was that the entire cabin had inexplicably lost power. By inexplicably, I mean that there is no explanation other than our massively jury-rigged electrical situation here, which includes the fact that the power lines are stapled into trees that have grown around them in a loving embrace. The electrical system pre-dates us here, probably by a hundred years or so. It was probably brought here on the Pony Express, which, other than the difference in eras, is quite possible, since one of our buildings used to be a stop on the Pony Express.
Anyways, our new friend fixed our problem for the time being, which was wonderful, but doesn't nullify the fact that the entire time he was here talking to me about work stuff, Kid A was tearing around the house like a three foot tall Doberman Pincher. "Sugar high," I explained, rolling my eyes and shrugging.Â
By 10:30 I was talking to one of the guys about what kind of intervention we should work on with a troubled girl here.Â
By 11:00 I had decided to take my poor, poor husband to the hospital. I haven't really mentioned it, but poor Chinua has been sick in bed since last Tuesday, feverish and delirious many times over. On the fourth consecutive day of fever and chills we decided to pack up the fam and take him to Urgent Care.
By 12:00 we were on our way.
By 1:55 I was tearing into the only pharmacy in town, which closes at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Saturday, and arguing with the pharmacist's assistant over whether my insurance covered the antibiotics for Chinua's strep throat.
By 2:45 I was in the midst of the aforementioned intervention. Think drama, pain, and frustration. And grace, lots and lots.
By 4:00 I was taking a break in an effort to get the YaYa Sister in bed for a nap. And by 4:30 I was giving up on an afternoon nap for either of my older kids.Â
And blah, blah, blahdee blah blah. Sorry for the boring details. I ended up talking with the girl for awhile, talking to about twenty people on the phone, asking for advice, making dinner, and all the other stuff, until:
At 8:30 I absolutely insisted on reading a book and doing nothing else until it was time for me to sleep.
So, I did get some time of rest after all. Thank God. It's funny, and I'm not really giving up, because I know these things come in seasons. Sometimes it is so quiet, and everything goes so smoothly that you look around and wonder what happened, where the turmoil went, why the river is so still. And sometimes all your reserves are called out, and all that peace can serve a purpose.Â
Sometimes it's just not up to me, though. For instance, this Saturday, the one that I was so intense about, went something like this:
By 9:00 AM, I had already called poison control because Kid A had a moment of out of control sugar craving while he was supposed to be going to the bathroom, climbed up on the toilet seat, opened the childproof bottle of children's ibuprofen, and drank the whole thing. Tom the poison control man on the phone was calm, but I suspect he's always calm. I actually wondered if they hired him because of his soothing voice. He assured me that Kid A would probably be fine, but that I should be listening for any complaints of a sore tummy, though. "Just don't suggest it to him," he advised, "the idea of a sore tummy." You don't have to tell me that twice.Â
Kid A was fine. Aside from a massive, enormous sugar high, though. Â
By 9:30 a new friend had shown up (this was actually the high point of the day) to do some volunteer electrical work on one of our cabins. He ended up fixing the problem, which was that the entire cabin had inexplicably lost power. By inexplicably, I mean that there is no explanation other than our massively jury-rigged electrical situation here, which includes the fact that the power lines are stapled into trees that have grown around them in a loving embrace. The electrical system pre-dates us here, probably by a hundred years or so. It was probably brought here on the Pony Express, which, other than the difference in eras, is quite possible, since one of our buildings used to be a stop on the Pony Express.
Anyways, our new friend fixed our problem for the time being, which was wonderful, but doesn't nullify the fact that the entire time he was here talking to me about work stuff, Kid A was tearing around the house like a three foot tall Doberman Pincher. "Sugar high," I explained, rolling my eyes and shrugging.Â
By 10:30 I was talking to one of the guys about what kind of intervention we should work on with a troubled girl here.Â
By 11:00 I had decided to take my poor, poor husband to the hospital. I haven't really mentioned it, but poor Chinua has been sick in bed since last Tuesday, feverish and delirious many times over. On the fourth consecutive day of fever and chills we decided to pack up the fam and take him to Urgent Care.
By 12:00 we were on our way.
By 1:55 I was tearing into the only pharmacy in town, which closes at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Saturday, and arguing with the pharmacist's assistant over whether my insurance covered the antibiotics for Chinua's strep throat.
By 2:45 I was in the midst of the aforementioned intervention. Think drama, pain, and frustration. And grace, lots and lots.
By 4:00 I was taking a break in an effort to get the YaYa Sister in bed for a nap. And by 4:30 I was giving up on an afternoon nap for either of my older kids.Â
And blah, blah, blahdee blah blah. Sorry for the boring details. I ended up talking with the girl for awhile, talking to about twenty people on the phone, asking for advice, making dinner, and all the other stuff, until:
At 8:30 I absolutely insisted on reading a book and doing nothing else until it was time for me to sleep.
So, I did get some time of rest after all. Thank God. It's funny, and I'm not really giving up, because I know these things come in seasons. Sometimes it is so quiet, and everything goes so smoothly that you look around and wonder what happened, where the turmoil went, why the river is so still. And sometimes all your reserves are called out, and all that peace can serve a purpose.Â
Reader Comments (8)
Rachel!! My kids shared a full bottle of childrens tylenol on Monday! The evidence was that the bottle was empty and P had red on her mouth. So, against my gut instincts i took her to the hospital er and they fished in both arms for a vein to insert an iv before finally going at her one more time to just straight up draw blood. two hours and 8 ounces of charcoal mixed with chocolate syrup later she had a blood content of tylenol that was 0. So in goes S, after determining that he had to have been the one to drink it all and sissy had got the very tail end. They drew his blood with a quikness and he was safe with a blood count of 50. Non-toxic, but i knew that i knew that without any tests. Better to be safe. Diane B said something to me a few weeks ago and i'm learning more and more. You will never regret doing whats right. No regrets, thats how i want to live. Love you girl
Pushing myself to *stay* out of lurk-dom, here. Sounds like quite the day. Poison Control, Urgent Care, sugar high, intervention AND no naps all in one day? On a day like this one, extra grace is a good thing...and insisting on curling up with that book until bedtime is a wise choice. I've always thought that finding time to read for myself is totally for the fam. A little quiet-time spent reading always makes for a happier mama in this house.
Hope Chinua is feeling better soon!
Chris sent me, but I decided to stay. You have a lot on your plate, and you are wise beyond your years. Your honest and good writing is a gift. I will never forget your sharing about how hard it is to put the really honest stuff out there: "It’s kind of like, Hello, my name is Rae and I’m nasty to my husband. Over Pepsi. I’m also crazy." Um-hmm. Been there, done that. Thanks, Rae. Keep writing, and we'll keep reading. God bless.
Ebb and Flow. Ebb and Flow. I think Morphing into Mama came up with the term "Mama Ebb" for days like this. You'll get back into the Flow again. Hang in there. You are doing a great job with everyone that's on your plate.
WOAH momma! You are such a giver! I honour and thank you for all that you do and share..
i am one of those lurking listeners and readers, when i have a few minutes in the day( late at night when the kids are in bed, and my mind can clear itself of all that is beyond my control)
===I love to listen to your words, lifes trials are humbling, and rewarding, because we are constantly learning more,
like writing this comment i realize that it has been a whole day since i began it and that i have a need to make thyme for myself to be alone, to fullfil my responsablity to myself is most challenging when you are constantly engaged in selfless service to your family, comunity, and spirit.
I am not sure your exact location? does it get cold there? it feels so close to home for me...
We had to flee our cabin for the winter, i just couldn;t brave the -30 plus snow, plus wood heat and of course the driving!(not to mention the economy shuts down) but ahhhhh how i miss those endless days of wandering in the forest collecting wood with the kids, stacking, sorting, choping, spliting, god is always giving us what we need-if we choose to see it..
ive spent many a day over the years collecting woods on wet islands and up on the hills in the desert, I felt a total deja vu reading your tale...the joys of wood heat have inspired me to share my experience..
, my most valuable life lesson in wood heat was that pitch (butterscotch) pine is great when you harvest in the spring or summer.. when the sap is running, the wood burns hotter, and the bark peels off nicer if you are building with it..which is also great for cooking on the cook stove... fire is so sacred, and the earth is very abundant.. i am happy to hear of your adventures always, and know that you are loved:)
you fire goddess!
- pardon the 'wood stove monolouge'
speaking of fire, ( iam in the city and miss it dearly, can you tell?)
--- Chinua must feel like he has fire in his throat! strep throat is so so poopy.. i had a bout of it last year while working full time outdoors...I relieved myself with mullen and comfrey tea, as well as tons of bee propolis throat spray and of course cayenne and lemon!
what a nasty illness! I hope he doesn't have it for long, and you are all in good health:)
ps.. when i sent the rainbowmusic.net i ment to write it as rainbowtribe.net silly me: ) you probably have seen it...but i just wanted to make the correction..
oh and pps..And if the nationals are in texas or arizona i am going to pray we can come! I want to see you darling rae and familla!
Love Melissa
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I don't mean to be too in your face, but I'm not sure I agree with this. Anyhow, thanks for sharing and I think I'll come to this blog more often.