Motherhood and Muffin Tops : April 2021

9:10 PM

I’ve got a busy end of the week starting tomorrow, so I’m just popping in to say hi and share a quick note.

I’m a dreamer. Not as much in the aspiration sense as the kind that happens when you sleep. I’ve been wearing my Fitbit to bed and, if it’s accurate, it has confirmed what I have suspected all along- I consistently spend more time than the average person in REM sleep. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a sign of mental illness, but I do have some vivid and entertaining dreams.

For the last year or more, I’ve been having this crazy, recurring dream. In this one, I wake up in the middle of the night all alone in a dark, strange house. Kind of an old and rundown place. I’m in bed and I sit up and look around in the dark at the furnishings and the moonlit windows and doors to try to determine their placement and get clues on where I am. When I realize I’m in a strange house all alone, I get concerned that I need to get up and lock the doors but, as is the norm in dreamland, I can’t because I’m just too sleepy and I can only move in slow motion.

Now, I’m no dream interpreter so I have no idea what, if anything, the dream might indicate about me. Maybe a therapist type would say that I’m bonkers and need immediate help. I certainly couldn’t argue with that. I do know that, while it’s just a dream, it does seem kind of familiar. I’ve been having that very same bewildered confusion about my whereabouts in the waking hours, too.

There are times I wonder if I’ve possibly woken up on a different planet as nothing people do makes much sense anymore. If you’re feeling that way then I’m here to tell you that you are not alone. If you’re looking around in the dark-desperate for the slightest glimmer of common sense or just a hint of logical thinking and sound reasoning, I promise you aren’t the only one. If you’re disoriented in these new surroundings and its new rules and wishing for the old familiar scenes of personal responsibility, thicker skin, and courage of conviction, then you are in good company. If you’re trying to figure out how the heck you got to this strange place where right is wrong and wrong is right, then you are among many friends.

Let’s face it- people have gone kooky. And just hearing and reading about other people, who have gone kooky, can cause you to also go kooky, because you just can’t accept the fact that anyone could ever be as kooky as the people who have, in turn, made you kooky with all of their kookiness.

That is all. I have no deep insights or wise words to add on the subject other than “I feel ya, girl.”

We’ll talk next week!!

JONI

Just More of My Rambling

9:02 PM

Well, Easter weekend was a whirlwind. The kids were all here and we had so much going on with different commitments and obligations, so the Easter Bunny came to visit on Saturday because I knew we’d be pressed for time on Sunday morning. Yes, you heard what I said. I said the Easter Bunny. You can imagine how much Davis loves that the Bunny still comes to see his grown children and son-in-law. He’s one of those parents who likes to tell his kids how different it was when he was growing up- it’s a favorite pastime of his- especially around holidays. If you listen to him, you’d think he was one of those who walked uphill in the snow both ways to school with no shoes and Santa only left an orange and a toothbrush. Sigh.

Anyway, this year, I just filled useful storage tubs with stuff they like and use. Carson drinks Muscle Milk and likes dark chocolate and coconut jelly beans. Blair loves flavored coffee, tea, Bai, and Cadbury eggs. John Samuel is a Little Debbie oatmeal creme pie, dark coffee, and gummy bears kind of man. After they rummaged through their tubs, I told the grown people that I needed a picture of them with their Easter “baskets.” They weren’t ashamed. They wouldn’t admit it, but there would be some long faces if the Easter Bunny had hopped on by here. I know I have a problem and I’m going to quit this one of these years. Maybe by the time they’re 30.

Grown adults with their baskets full of Easter joy.

I suspected we’d be running behind on Sunday morning and we did not disappoint with unnamed people forgetting to pack belts, socks, cuff links, and one needing a YouTube refresher on tying a bow tie. On top of that, my whole family was coming for lunch after church so there were things to do for that. We made it though and even had some time to spare for a few pictures. I see families who take beautiful pictures by our cross at church, but we are not one of them. We never are. We are challenged in the squinting department. Every year, we look like we’ve all just come from having our eyes dilated and it’s never a good result.

We’re really more of a shade people.

I mentioned we had people coming for lunch. Eighteen people to be exact- perfect attendance except my nephew’s fiancé who was studying for medical school tests and we certainly didn’t want to interfere with that. We want her to study so she can look at our rashes and swollen joints and tell us what to do about them at family functions. We already have a nurse practitioner, a CPA, a forester, an irrigation and lighting guy, a pilot and airplane mechanic in training, computer programmer, sales representative, and a financial adviser. It won’t be long before we can have our own village. We just need Carson to marry a cobbler or blacksmith. I guess I can be the florist, but I should probably learn to do something more useful like hair.

Anyway, after pulling the Easter Sunday lunch off, I think I should stop and acknowledge our mothers and grandmothers and their abilities to get up, all those years, and get the lunch food ready for a crowd and still make it to Sunday school and church with their offering envelopes and lessons studied after they’d already made homemade biscuits and the works for everyone’s breakfast. I am here to profess that I am not the woman that they are/were. I am obviously not cut from the same cloth. I am clearly fashioned from a less sturdy bolt of fabric. I missed Sunday school, served frozen cinnamon rolls for breakfast, ordered a couple of the lunch side dishes, served pre-sliced brisket from Sam’s, ordered a smoked ham, asked my mother to bring the desserts, used paper plates, and we still didn’t eat until 1:15 and I felt like I’d just completed combat training by the time everyone left. All I can say is that I’m sorry for all the young and foolish years I didn’t fully appreciate the work that went into family dinners by the women who’ve gone before me.

Easter was a gorgeous day. The kids and younger sort sat outside to eat and their Grandma wanted to sit out there with them. We hid eggs. Decorated cookies. Rocked on the front porch. The boys played football and whiffle ball in the backyard. It was our first Easter to celebrate with my great-nephew and that’s always fun when there’s a little person around. It was just a lovely time in every way. But, Ruby saw all that was going on and thought to herself that something was missing from our day. She thought about what she could do and brought up a dead mole clenched between her teeth as her contribution to the party. Ruby knows it’s those little finishing touches that make an event so memorable.

Carson did not receive the spirit award for this picture.

Our future baker. We’ll need one in the village.

The baby of the family.

Serious sports competition.

I was thinking about how different this Easter was from last year. Last Easter, we watched our church service on TV in our pajamas because we weren't meeting in person. This year, the church was packed with people in their Easter best. Last year, we didn’t see any of our family or have any gatherings or special meals. This year, we were all together under the same roof hugging and laughing. Last year, we weren’t sure what was coming or what it would all mean for us. This year, we’re finally coming out on the other side of the fog that has hung over us for so long. Thank the Lord for the more traditional Easter, this time around. Either way, both years, we were able to celebrate the one truth that never changes- Jesus conquered death and rose to give us hope- no matter what our days might look like- past, present, or future. That’s what it’s all about.

I can testify that the more traditional version of Easter celebration is a bit more tiring than the quarantine version. I found this in the corner after everyone had left.

Hope you all had a blessed Easter! Enjoy your weekend!

JONI

Dreamer

Just More of My Rambling

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