Refresh. Regrow. Renew.

If the last week was a measure things to come over the next month, then I may need medication. I recently signed up to be a group leader at our local MOPS organization which only seems natural since I have been part of it for so long and a perfect place to test my leadership skills, if I have any that is. Our first goal was to inform and invite as many moms as possible to join. So we stand by a table outside the children's ministry handing invitations to any mom we see and talk to them about it. In between moms, we leaders naturally chit-chat about unimportant things when the wonderful mom organizing everything informs us of one of MOPS traditions through our church. It seems that the leadership team falls victim to various troubles the week prior to the first meeting. I usually dismiss these sorts of claims because more often than not these are just easily dismissed events that have been connected together when they really don't connect at all. Having said that, my week really sucked! Benny turned into a vomiting volcano as I was waiting in a car line to pick up Tiffany. It was everywhere. Fortunately, I had extra clothes on hand but his car seat was disgusting so I moved him to Tiffany's and had her ride without a car seat. This made her cry even though she has been wanting to sit without her car seat for weeks now. On the way home, Benny started again but I was able to catch it with a plastic bag and still managed to steer the car. He didn't throw up again but he sure was tired and cranky the next two days. Tiffany also chose this time to be a defiant child who seems to know what is best for her and I apparently know nothing. It didn't help that I couldn't sleep during this time either. We were all cranky! Then I get terrible news, Tim's dad was in the hospital with what can only be described as a minor cardiac event. Earlier this year he underwent two separate brain surgeries where we thought that we may lose him and here we go again. Fortunately, he is responding to medication but they are thinking of putting a stint in a clogged artery. We are hopeful, but we will be glad when he is back home. After this week, I will never doubt our wonderful MOPS leader again. It really was a terrible week, but our first MOPS meeting was great!

Fourteen days without electricity. Fourteen days of entertaining children. Fourteen dark nights full of monsters. Fourteen days of mosquito bites. Fourteen days without air conditioning. Fourteen days waking up with tears wondering if I will make it another day. The last two weeks has been like walking along a narrow precipice, at times you are on steady ground and others you are struggling not to fall. I yelled at my children more than usual these last two weeks but I always managed to steady myself before falling off the edge. They have been miserable with their mosquito ravaged bodies wondering if there really are monsters in the dark waiting to devour them. The only monster was the one I was trying to keep from coming out of me. I struggled with bouts of depression over the last couple of weeks but once we saw those glorious lights come on, we were rejoicing and dancing with happiness. We made it fourteen days and I honestly think, I could have done more but I am glad that I didn't have to find out. I took the children to lots of places where they could safely play and entertain themselves leaving me to write out my feelings and experiences. I will be posting some of what I wrote and some pictures I took, but first I must clean my carpets.

The house was old but new to us. I hated it with a wild fury. Our old house was nothing fancy but its where I learned to climb a tree, to ride a bike, how snow felt, how to sneak out, to get drunk without letting anyone know it and many other skills that don't need mentioning. It was a nice house in a nice neighborhood with nice people. It was close to the river where I would escape my mother. This new blue house was not in a neighborhood, it was right off a highway and across from a bar. There were no nice people. It was much bigger which gave my mom more space to pretend to sort through and organize all of her moth eaten valuables given to her by her crazy mother who wouldn't get rid of it either. The house came with a bigger yard for all of our animals which meant that I would have more grass to cut on those hot Texas days. Our only neighbors were the sheep from a nearby farm and the speeding cars that seemed to laugh as they drove by. If you were to get an Aeriel view, the blue house would resemble the letter L. The largest room in the house was the loft room which we filled with maze of useless junk. The maze twisted and turned eventually spitting us out to the bathroom or to the stairs leading up to the loft. That was the short part of the L. The remainder of the house was one long hallway of rooms. The entry room. The living room. The laundry room. The kitchen. The dining room. This room was strange; perhaps it was an afterthought in the mind of a lunatic. It had a storm door with three stairs leading down to the mismatched linoleum, an out of place yet elegant chandelier with one door leading to the back yard and another door leading out to the carport. There were also ugly sliding glass windows that opened to the kitchen. Next came the bedrooms. Nothing remarkable until the last room of the house. This is the master bedroom with stairs that lead down to the closets and a puke green bathroom. The ceilings were ridiculously short in this room especially the shower where claustrophobia would overwhelm the bravest of people. This became my room.

Our first night in our big, blue house was memorable to say the least. Mom was asleep in the living area in a sleeping bag on the floor. Next to her was the laundry room door with a mattress leaning against it. She has always slept on the couch, never in her room. Now she reduced herself to a sleeping bag. I stopped asking why. All six of our grumpy cats are in the laundry room. My younger sister is decorating her room while listening to The New Kids On The Block. They apparently have the right stuff for my sister. Their faces litter her walls which turns the bile in my stomach everytime I walk by. This first night I am in the hallway by my sister's room since she has the only air conditioner in this part of the house and I am being disobedient. The night before I was caught in a compromising situation with my boyfriend and was forbidden to talk to him. Naturally, I call him as soon as mom falls asleep. Queen Toni was purring quietly nearby when BOOM! I look up to see that the mattress where my mom is sleeping has turned orange with flames and the laundry room door is barely hanging on its hinges. I am shocked to see that my mom is still asleep. I run over to her, shake her so hard I feel as though she will break. Finally she wakes up, sees the fire and leaps to attention. She attends the fire and I run to my sister who is in shock. I grab her arm and my cat while running to the door. We jump in the car and drive it up to the road away from our house. We sit in our car watching the firefighters work. My sister is hysterically screaming for the New Kids. Our crap house is on fire, flying cats were shot out of the laundry room and are possibly dead or dying, our mom is running around like a headless chicken and my sister is screaming for a stupid boy band. (I would say music group but that's just needless flattery). I am calmly petting my cat watching the blazing fire fighting to survive.

The fire is contained before spreading to the rest of the house and eventually we find all of our cats, singed but undamaged. Sadly, the house was rebuilt and we remained to suffer. I eventually moved to Oklahoma and my mom bought a house. I drive by the blue house whenever I visit my mom and I always think back to this night and how truly funny it was.

"Mommy, I want to be a doctor when I grow up!" announced Tiffany

(getting her doctor kit together)

"Daddy, I'm a doctor and its time for your check-up."

(pretend coughing)

(check-up begins)

"Well Daddy, you look just fine. I have to go now."

"But I'm still sick!"

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

"But your a doctor so can you make me better."

She pats him gently, "Sorry, I have to go now."

So much for that bedside manner. See you later, Dr. Tiffany!

Here is a glimpse into August insanity