Maybe it was being thirty feet off the ground, clinging to a ladder, with my husband’s hands fussing with my dress…but I had the most amazing case of butterflies I’ve had in years! I was having trouble breathing, and all I could think about was how close we were and the scent of his cologne. “You look great,” I whispered to him.
He gave me this big grin and glanced pointedly down at my still-exposed legs. “Thanks. So do you.”
Alas, he freed my dress too soon, and clambered back down the ladder while I resumed my climb up.
After that, things progressed as planned, mostly. McKenzie did look like a fairy princess—in an overdone toy-dress-up-kit sort of way, but cute nonetheless. When she reached the front of the theater and climbed the steps to the stage, having scattered rose petals down the aisle, she turned to watch Morris on the horse, and the moment that dumb horse stepped on one of her rose petals, McKenzie started wailing, “The horsey is squishing my flowers!” As the audience laughed, I tried to quiet her. But she would have none of it. “Bad horse! Naughty horse! You’re gonna get a spanking!” Her voice sailed right over “Ride of the Valkyries” as if it were “Brahm’s Lullaby.”
By now, we’d lost control of both the audience and the flower girl. I didn’t know what to do—try to calm her down or take her backstage. Tom’s great-aunt sitting in the front row solved the problem for me. She offered McKenzie a chocolate kiss, which promptly shut off the tears and made the woman my hero for life. McKenzie’s chomping on the chocolate drop left her with a brown smear around her mouth and a little stain on her dress, which belied the idea that she was “mature for her age”—but I can live with that.
Dulcie
* * *
From:
Connie Lawson
To:
SAHM I Am
Subject:
[SAHM I AM] TOTW May 23: Resolving Conflicts
* * *
My SAHM Girls,
Rosalyn’s topic this week was supposed to be about resolving conflicts. But it seems that she has her own to deal with. And she needs our help.
For three years, Rosalyn has always been there for us—ready with helpful advice, encouragement and inspirational stories. She’s never complained or griped about her own circumstances but has given to us from her heart.
But now, due to family issues, she has grown discouraged and weary. So dispirited, in fact, that she has resigned from the loop, convinced we no longer need her. But is that true? Can we really imagine a SAHM I Am loop without the pleasant wisdom of our sister Rosalyn? I can’t!
So I am asking all of you, even you lurkers out there, that for this week’s topic we not have a discussion. Instead, let’s send personal notes of encouragement and love to dear, dear Rosalyn, and ask her to rejoin the loop. She needs a ton of cyber-hugs, and I know you ladies will come through for her, just as we have for all of you at one time or another. E-mail her at her private address: [email protected].
God bless you all!
Connie Lawson
SAHM I Am Loop Mom
* * *
From:
P. Lorimer
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Where’s Dulcie?
* * *
Wasn’t she supposed to be home Sunday evening? I haven’t heard a word from her since she sent her last Branson report. (Wasn’t that hysterical? Jonathan and I went over to Brenna and Darren’s and had an e-mail-reading party, complete with popcorn and soda. It was better than a movie!)
By the way, Jonathan is applying to a church in upstate New York. We don’t know if anything will come of it, but we feel ready to return to the ministry. Now that we have things worked out between us, I’m actually excited about being a pastor’s wife. But I’m also excited because this city has a university with a great PhD program in history. And Jonathan is absolutely 100% committed to my getting a doctorate. Now, Lord, please grant me patience….
Love,
Phyllis
* * *
From:
The Millards
To:
Rosalyn Ebberly
Subject:
On Behalf of the Green Eggs and Ham…
* * *
Dear Rosalyn,
Zelia, Phyllis, Dulcie, Brenna and I want to encourage you to come back to the SAHM I Am loop. I e-mailed Connie after she announced your decision to the loop, and since I’ve known you both for so long, she felt it would be okay to tell me the whole story about you and your sister. I explained it to the other four girls, and we just want you to know we are really sorry that you’ve been carrying around this pain for so long all alone. If we had known, we could have been praying for you and encouraging you. Please rejoin the loop so we can support you like we are supposed to. But if you return, you have to start being more honest with everyone—otherwise it defeats the purpose of belonging to a group like SAHM. I hope you’ll come back, and that you and Veronica can start a new, positive phase in your relationship.
Much love,
Jocelyn
* * *
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Where’s Dulcie?
* * *
I haven’t heard from her, maybe she and Tom decided to get stuck on the ladder again after the ceremony…they certainly sounded quite cozy up there…:)
* * *
From:
The Millards
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Where’s Dulcie?
* * *
Zelia, you are a bad girl! They probably stayed an extra night so they could go ring shopping, remember? So, are we all on for chatting tonight? I’ve got a great Evelyn story for you. It can’t rival Dulcie’s wedding story, but I think you’ll like it anyway.
See you tonight!
Jocelyn
* * *
From:
VIM
To:
Rosalyn Ebberly
Subject:
SAHM I Am
* * *
Dear Rosalyn,
Connie put me back on the SAHM list after she told me about your “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us” e-mail. I had no idea Mama and Daddy’s attitude was such a big deal to you. You always act like it don’t make no never-mind to you. Contrary to your suspicions, I didn’t quit my job or join the loop just to ruin your life. Your quality of life isn’t high enough on my priority list to merit ditching my career for it, but you’ve always had a rather high opinion of your own importance.
You’re my big sister, and for some crazy reason, I look up to you, admire you and want to be like you—goes along with being the little sister, I guess. I’ve always thought you were very unselfish and brave to stay home with your children, and it’s paying off because they are turning out great. I guess I figured if it works for you, it would work for me, too. I love Frank’s kids, and I want to give them the best of who I am, not the leftovers. That’s why I’m staying home.
I joined your e-mail loop because you’re always talking about how great it is, and I know I’m going to need the help and support y’all give each other. I’m not trying to take your place, but I would like to understand you better. So if I promise to be good and not pester you, could I pretty-please be part of your e-mail loop? I don’t really want to be there unless you are, too. You know how shy I am…:) There ya go—what do you say, Sis?
Love,
Veronica
* * *
From:
Brenna L.
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Where’s Dulcie
?
* * *
Rats! I was hoping she’d be home by now and able to chat with us, so I could tell you all together. I haven’t even told Phyllis yet…but since Dulcie doesn’t seem to be home yet, I’ll have to do this by e-mail instead.
I am extremely pleased to announce that Darren and I have decided to…adopt! But not a traditional adoption. Darren really, really wants the experience of being with me through a pregnancy and delivery. So, after a TON of prayer and discussion and research, we’ve decided to adopt an embryo. There’s this program called Snowflakes in California that facilitates adoptions of frozen embryos created during in vitro fertilization. They require a home-study just like Z’s and all that, then let “genetic parents” choose us to adopt their embryos. It’s a long process, and I’ve heard in vitro will be no picnic for me. The success rate can be quite low, too, which would mean more money for a second try. I have no idea where we’ll get the money, but this is what we believe we’re supposed to do. There are thousands and thousands of embryos, waiting for a chance to grow up. We didn’t like the idea of adding to them by doing our own in vitro with a sperm donor, so this is perfect. And because it’s set up like an adoption, we have an opportunity to know the genetic parents if we, and they, want. We started our home-study shortly after Easter, but Darren didn’t feel comfortable telling anyone yet. But I just couldn’t stand keeping it from my Green Eggs (and Ham) girls, so I convinced him to let me tell you, now that we’re nearly done with the home-study.
Both of us are just bursting with excitement! It will be an adventure, and we know it might be difficult, but at the end of it, if the Lord wills, we will have a child together. I wanted all of you to be the first to know.
Love,
Brenna
* * *
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Where’s Dulcie?
* * *
Okay, girls, this calls for a celebration! Our chat tonight is officially changed to a party! We’re talking snacks, music, the whole bit. You with me? And maybe Dulcie will surprise us and show up after all. This is great news, Brenna. I’m so happy for you both.
Love,
Z
* * *
From:
Dulcie Huckleberry
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Where I Am
* * *
Girls, I’m sorry to have disappeared on you for half a week! But we’ve been so busy, and the Internet room is quite expensive. So I won’t be able to stay on for long. I just wanted to let you all know we’re fine. Actually, we’re much more than “fine.” We’re…in Cancún. :)
Love,
Dulcie
* * *
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Where I Am
* * *
Dulcie! DULCIE! Get your little self back online this instant and tell me WHAT IS GOING ON! CANCÚN? As in…Mexico?
* * *
From:
Dulcie Huckleberry
To:
“Green Eggs and Ham”
Subject:
Re: Where I Am
* * *
I didn’t leave, actually. I was waiting to see if I got any response from you all. Oh, and Tom is sitting next to me. He says to tell you you’re sorta demanding, aren’t you? :)
As far as what’s going on, it’s quite simple. See, at the reception at White Water on Saturday night, after the park had closed up, we got into a pretty big fight. Oh, Tom says I have to back up before the fight. Let’s see…Okay, we left the kids at the hotel with Tom’s cousin, which was nice, since it let us have some time to ourselves. After we ate supper under the pavilion, we went to put on our swimsuits. (No, I didn’t take Jeanine up on her idea of “bridesmaid swimsuits”—I bought a new one myself.) You should have seen Tom’s reaction to my suit! His eyes popped out and his face turned red.
Oh. Now he says I backed up too far. Picky, picky…
Fine, we’ll pick up the story after we’d tried out all the water slides and the wave pool. Tom asked me the question I’d been dreading all weekend. Did “he” call?
“Who?” I asked. (Yes, yes, I knew who he was talking about—he wants me to make that clear.) The guy at church. The…HOT one.
“Oh,” I replied. “That one. Actually, yes.”
“And?” (There were about fifty question marks after the word when he said it, but I didn’t want to put all those in an e-mail.)
I told him that I explained to poor Travis that he’d misunderstood me, that I was married, and happily so.
“You lied to him.”
“Did not!”
“You’re really happily married to me?”
Ouch. Well, since he mentioned it, hmm…not so much, actually. So anyway, we got into this big argument about why he left for Alaska, why he stayed away so much in KC and whether or not I wished I was free to go out with Travis.
The answers he gave were as follows: because I wanted him to, and because I didn’t need him.
The answer I gave was the following: of course I didn’t wish I was free to date Travis, I hardly even knew the guy, why would I trade in a committed, loving relationship for something so totally wrong, and the only reason it was tempting for even a moment was that I was lonely and missing Tom and tired of feeling like I was raising the kids on my own while he was away all the time, and I didn’t understand why he would choose to be away when he had a family waiting for him who loved him and missed him.
(Tom wants to know why it is possible for a guy to answer two questions in a quarter of the space it takes for a woman to answer one. Well…duh! Right, girls?)
So anyway, BIG FIGHT. We started yelling at each other, and everybody was listening and staring. So Jeanine (arrayed in bridal swimsuit of cream, with seed pearls, sequins and satiny skirt) and Morris (in a black Speedo…eww) stormed over and ever-so-politely suggested we join them for the cake cutting.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get the hint. All the way over, it was “You’re too independent!” “Don’t have a choice when you’re always gone.” “All you want from me is a paycheck every two weeks.” “WHATEVER.” (Tom says that was my weakest comeback of the evening, and I must agree. Maybe I’m losing my touch.)
So we got over to the cake table. Jeanine had donned a cream-colored pareo over the swimsuit, and Morris had tugged on some shorts, thankfully. While they cut their piece and fed each other, Tom and I carried on an under-our-breath argument:
“You think I’m incompetent.”
“Do not.”
“Do, too—you even told your friends you thought I was in the way.”
“No, it’s just that it had been so long since you were home all the time, I’d forgotten what it was like.”
Morris cleared his throat, looking meaningfully at us. We smiled and continued muttering.
“What it was like? You mean how unbearable it was.”
“How should I know if it was unbearable or not? It hardly ever happened!”
Jeanine said, “Are you two finished?”
“Yeah, Mom.” Tom looked back at me. “All I’m saying is that I prefer to be where I feel appreciated and where I can make a valuable contribution.”
“And all I’m saying is that it’s hard to make a valuable contribution when you’re not around.”
He grabbed my arm. “You aren’t listening to me, Dulcie.”
“Oh yes, I am, Tom. I hear you loud and clear. You want to be involved in the family, but you’re running away, just like your dad.”
Well, I heard Jeanine give a little strangled yelp, and Tom’s face got beet red.
I tried to yank my arm away, but he held on too tight. The next time I pulled, he suddenly let go and I stumbled backward.
Right into the cake table. One table leg collapsed and I fell to the ground. I remember it almost like slow motion…the cake slid off the table. Onto my head! The top layer landed in my lap.
I got so mad, I picked up the cake in my lap and hurled it in Tom’s face. SPLAT! The guy never even saw it coming ’cause he was still stunned from watching the table collapse. For one moment, the topper stuck out from his face like a carrot nose on a snowman. Then it, and a great glob of frosting, slid like an avalanche down his chin and landed on the outdoor turf carpet with an ominous plop. As he scooped the goop out of his eyes, it occurred to me at that point that I might not be long for this world. Nobody else moved. Masked with mush, Tom leaned over and grabbed a fistful of cake from behind me…
SAHM I Am Page 29
