* * *
Ros, I blew it! Ashley had her school awards ceremony on Friday, and I totally forgot. She was all worked up about it, and I feel like a complete heel. We have an important ad campaign due next week, and I’ve been frazzled trying to get everything done. Plus, Stanley had a cold, and Carmen was gone all week because of a death in her family. Frank has wedding photos scheduled every weekend from now through July, and Courtney’s piano recital is on Sunday. I feel like all I’ve done this week is run around fussing at everybody like a grumpy possum.
I was excited to get this promotion, but I was more excited about becoming a mama. I love these kids like they were my own, and it makes me just plumb boo-hoo to think how I’ve let them down the past few months. It must be so easy for you—having all that time to devote to them. Playing with them the whole day, no pressures, no hassles. No wonder at all you chose to stay at home. If I had my druthers, I’d do it, too, but it’s hard to imagine giving up my career. I’m good at it. At home, I’m afraid I’d be bored as a dog that can’t dig. I’m not like you—I need to accomplish something with my life. There has got to be a way to make this work.
Mama told me this morning that she and Daddy are real proud of what a great mother you are. I only wish they were that impressed with my mothering skills, too, but I don’t think my track record this week has been very admirable. So there ya go. Any suggestions?
Ronnie
* * *
From:
Rosalyn Ebberly
To:
SAHM I Am
Subject:
[SAHM I AM] TOTW May 2: Balancing Our Many Hats
* * *
Flexible Females,
Have you ever had this experience? Someone asks you “So what do you DO?” What do you say? “I’m a stay-at-home mom.” And they raise their eyebrows and say, “WOW! That’s just wonderful! I could NEVER do that. I’d go crazy. Don’t you get bored? How do you stand being around CHILDREN all day long?” (That last question particularly amuses me when it comes from an elementary school teacher.)
I’ve often thought about taking a poll. How many of you SAHMs are bored at home? What? No hands popping up in the air? You say it’s quite the opposite? You have more to do than would be possible to accomplish in an entire lifetime? Ah, I thought so.
Perhaps, when people ask us the “What do you DO?” question, we should respond with a description of our various jobs, instead of with a job title. We could say, “I work in hospitality, early childhood education, counseling, nursing, nutrition, administration, transportation and food management. What do you DO?”
Ladies, we SAHMs wear numerous hats. If we aren’t careful, they can easily slide right off our heads into a heap on the floor. Let’s discuss ways this week to keep our hats in balance. How do you manage being an educator and chef, housekeeper and counselor? What other hats do you wear?
My own technique for maintaining balance is to keep my POSTURE:
P—Positive Attitude. I always try to find the best in every situation and see the best in every person.
O—Objectivity. Never let biased opinions color your judgment. I certainly never do, and see how balanced and objective I am?
S—Spiritual Life. This is, of course, the most important one, but if I put it at the beginning, I’d have “SPOTURE,” which is not a word.
T—Training. Self-discipline, instruction and sound counsel from others who are more mature than yourself, like Connie or me.
U—Understanding. You have to know who you are and where you are going, and understand the way to get there. This could also be called “Focus” but there are no “Fs” in “POSTURE.”
R—Relationships. As I clearly demonstrate, life is about relationships, not duties. Always be people-oriented, instead of task-oriented.
E—Eliminate all unnecessary hats; learn to say NO! (This is perhaps the easiest for me—I say no to so many activities, it’s a wonder I have anything to do at all.)
I just know that if you remember to keep your “POSTURE,” all your hats will stay balanced. Comments, anyone?
Lovingly,
Rosalyn Ebberly
SAHM I Am Loop Moderator
“She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.”
Proverbs 31:27 (NASB)
* * *
From:
Connie Lawson
To:
SAHM I Am
Subject:
Re: [SAHM I AM] TOTW May 2: Balancing Our Many Hats
* * *
Oh, Rosalyn! This has got to be one of your best TOTWs! And it is so vital to learn to balance our “hats.”(What a cute metaphor, Rosalyn. You have such a way with figurative language!) With five children around, plus DH Kurt, my life is too busy to spend time picking up fallen hats. Rosalyn’s POSTURE acronym has helped me so much! I think she should write a book about it. She could call it How to Improve Your POSTURE. Wouldn’t that be darling?
Well, I must rush. Time to don my “Taxi” hat—James and John have softball practice in a half hour.
Love,
Connie
* * *
From:
Dulcie Huckleberry
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Connie and Rosalyn
* * *
Connie reminds me of the little yippy dog in the cartoons whose friend is the big bulldog Spike.
This is my friend Spike! (yip, yip) He’s so big and strong! (pant, pant) He can beat up anybody! I’m just a little dog, but Spike—he’s my friend! (yip, yip) If anybody tries to mess with me, Spike, here, takes care of them good! (pant, pant) Right, Spike? Huh? We’re good pals, me and Spike. (yap, yap)
Dulcie
P.S. The weirdest thing happened today—I was scrubbing some pots, and so I took off my rings and set them on the counter by the sink. When I turned on the garbage disposal, my arm hit a glass and it fell over and knocked my rings into the drain, with the disposal on! One ring is history. My wedding ring has big scratches all over it and is all bent out of shape. I called Tom, and he said to talk to the jeweler. If it can’t be repaired, he’s going to take some time off around his mom’s wedding so we can shop for a new ring. So I’m taking it in today. It just feels a little ominous—damaging your own wedding ring. Do you think it’s symbolic?
* * *
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Connie and Rosalyn
* * *
Yeah, until the “giant mouse” arrives, and little dog ends up using Spike as a billy club to attack the “giant mouse” and Spike runs off howling and whimpering—then, little dog says, “See, Spike ain’t scared of nobody! I want to be just like my friend Spike. Hey, Spike!…Spike? Where’d you go? Huh, Spike? SPIKE!” But poor, wussy Spike is already three counties over, hiding under some old lady’s front porch. :)
Boy, I think maybe I watch too much TV….
And no, your damaged wedding ring is in no way symbolic. Mine’s had a stone replaced, been resized with each pregnancy, and gotten stuck in an elevator door (long story…). Hope yours can be repaired without buying a new one.
Z
* * *
From:
The Millards
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Speaking of watching TV…
* * *
…Zelia, Ms. Ham, aren’t you supposed to be working on an adoption? When do you find time to veg in front of the television? By the way, you never told us how your visit with the social worker went.
We decided to let Tyler join a swim team this summer. He’s still feeling quite well—no soreness or stiffness, praise God! But we thought it might be best t
o avoid contact sports for a while anyway, to be on the safe side. And swimming is so good for the joints.
You know, Shane and I were talking about the whole thing with Tyler the other day. We realized we are so much closer to each other now than we were before Tyler’s illness. We were both so busy before, and we were growing apart without even knowing it. I’m actually feeling thankful that God allowed this to happen before any permanent damage was done to our marriage. Don’t we have a merciful God?
Peace,
Jocelyn
* * *
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Home study
* * *
You mean, I never told you how the home visit went? I thought for sure I did….
Anyway, it was totally not what I had expected. Our social worker arrived a few minutes late, which left a few minutes extra for me and Tristan to fuss over the house. We had everything just perfect! Candles on the table, freshly vacuumed carpets, no dust anywhere. Tristan even alphabetized the salad dressings in the fridge. (Personally, I thought that might be going a bit far, but then I remembered who had insisted on climbing around on an extension ladder to wash the siding and polish all the windows, even on the second floor…*blushing*). At any rate, the house was cleaner than it’s probably ever been in its eighty-year existence.
We’d brought Cosette and Seamus home from school early, and all the children were supposed to be in their rooms until we sent for them. Seconds before the social worker arrived, however, Griffith trotted downstairs and reached for one of the apples we had in a fruit bowl on the table. In doing so, he tipped over one of the taper candles. The next thing we knew, Griffith was screaming that the tablecloth was on fire.
Tristan grabbed a towel and was beating out the flames when the doorbell rang. I didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t seem like too good an idea to leave the poor woman standing outside, so I let her in and yelled something incoherent about the table being on fire, and left her standing in the foyer.
When she wandered by herself into the dining room, she was greeted by the sight of Tristan leaning disheveled against the wall, singed towel in hand, and me trying to comfort a sobbing Griffith. Seamus, in his desire to help, had grabbed a pitcher of water from the fridge and dumped it all over the table. Water had soaked the rug and there were puddles across the wood floor where he’d spilled coming from kitchen to dining room. He stood there, announcing for all to hear, “I did not make Griffith do this! It really wasn’t my fault this time! I had nothing to do with it!”
Cosette seemed to be the only one to keep a clear head. She walked over to the social worker and, holding out her hand, said, “Hello! My name is Cosette. Don’t mind us—it’s always like this around here.”(See, children really do listen to what you say!)
So much for a good first impression! The social worker asked if we were all okay and if she needed to come back at a different time. But I figured, “Hey, the damage is done. Might as well get the meeting over with, so she can go back to her office and mark ‘LUNATICS’ all over our files.”
But after we got her settled in the living room and opened a few windows to air out the smoke and burned-fabric smell, she folded her hands across her notebook and said, “First thing…relax. I’m not here to find reasons why you can’t adopt. I’m here so I can make a report on all the great reasons why you should.”
Whew! And you know what? We had a lovely time! She’d already asked us most of the hard questions in our previous meetings at her office. This time, we just chatted and she got better acquainted with the kids. When we finally did take her on a tour of the house, she hardly glanced at the fridge, much less opened it! No white-glove test on the bookshelves, no peeking in the closets. Just walked through all the rooms with us exclaiming how beautiful our home was and how amazed she was about the wall murals in the kids’ rooms—especially after she found out I’d painted them.
She’s supposed to have the final report done this week, actually. I can hardly wait!
Z
* * *
From:
Thomas Huckleberry
To:
Dulcie Huckleberry
Subject:
Ring shopping
* * *
Dulcie,
Checked with my supervisors, and they really need me to stay through the 19th. So I’ll be leaving on Friday morning, the 20th, and will just have enough time to get to the rehearsal that evening. (In fact, it’s a good thing the rehearsal is after the evening performance, or I’d miss it entirely. As it is, I told Mom not to expect me for rehearsal dinner. Sorry about that.) I’m flying in to KC and renting a car to drive down to Branson. But that means I won’t be able to come to Omaha first. So maybe we can postpone our ring shopping until the 22nd and just pick something up in Branson or Springfield. Hope that’s okay. It’s the best I could do.
Love,
Tom
* * *
From:
Dulcie Huckleberry
To:
Thomas Huckleberry
Subject:
Re: Ring shopping
* * *
“Pick something up”? You don’t just “pick up” a wedding ring. You “pick up” a loaf of bread or a gallon of milk from the grocery store. You “pick up” a pizza or a rented video. You “pick up” a newspaper. You do not, however, “pick up” a WEDDING RING! You choose it with care and consideration and love—don’t you remember? It’s supposed to be special!
Five years in June—is this what I mean to you after only five years of marriage? Am I now a loaf of bread to you? Or a pizza? How could you be so callous?
Your “gallon of milk,”
Dulcie
* * *
From:
Thomas Huckleberry
To:
Dulcie Huckleberry
Subject:
Re: Ring shopping
* * *
Oh, come on, Dulcie! Don’t even try this with me. You know perfectly well that’s not what I meant. You are not equivalent to a piece of jewelry. And I don’t think the person who tells all her friends what a lousy husband I am and who mocks the books I allegedly read should have the nerve to call me “callous.”
And, yes, actually…I do remember shopping for your first ring. I remember every detail.
Tom
* * *
From:
Dulcie Huckleberry
To:
P. Lorimer
Subject:
What have I done?
* * *
Phyllis dear, I couldn’t write this to the other girls, but I was hoping you could give me advice. I got myself in a fix and I’m not sure what to do.
You see, this evening, since Tom isn’t home, and since I was feeling sort of bored, I decided to go to a Bible study our church hosts on Wednesday nights. It was good to get out, and it was great to be able to talk on an adult level with so many people. I didn’t know most of them—our church is getting so large, and I haven’t been in the habit of doing anything there on Wednesdays. Anyway, I enjoyed the study, and afterward I was sitting around talking with a few of the people who were in my discussion group. One of them, in particular, was really nice. Very outgoing. Friendly. Mature. Interesting.
And…MALE. (Gorgeous, to boot!)
But there were several of us sitting around talking, like I said, so nothing of that nature crossed my mind. Then, after a few minutes, the others left. And it was just me. With him. We kept talking, about the study, about all the general sorts of things you talk about with someone you’ve only just met. After about fifteen minutes, I realized with a shock that I’d forgotten to pick up the girls from their classes! I jumped up, rambling apologies all o
ver the place, expecting him to take the not-so-subtle hint to leave. But he stood up, too, and said, “You have three little ones? And you’re all by yourself?”
I’m not always the brightest star in the sky, Phyllis, because I thought he was expressing surprise that I’d brought three kids to church by myself. So I nodded. “Uh-huh. All by myself.”
He says, “Wow, I really admire that. It takes a lot of strength and energy, I bet.”
I say, sort of confused why he’s making such a big deal out of it, “Not really. It’s just church.”
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