Working Mom Blues and the Case of the Foggy Filthy Family

Just when i thought things were beginning to slow down..... they didn't. Sunday was a flurry of activity including church, a baptismal service in the river and dinner at my friend Mists. The morning service was not typical. A special speaker had come from a distance away. He had much to share about his ministry. Moonbeam didn't permit me to spend much of the service inside. Though many people were quite enthralled with what the speaker was sharing, others became a bit fidgety. One lady roared out of the service saying "I can't take it any more he is so boring!" Soon a group of people were congregating outside the building complaining about the man's monotone voice. I began to feel horribly guilty to be party to the riled crowd. On the other hand, the man was, after all, monotone. I tried to walk the baby back inside, but she didn't seem to enjoy the service either. This put me in a bit of an uncomfortable predicament. My husband was the one who was preforming the baptism after the service. It seemed a little, well, unorthodox or perhaps uncouth or maybe even sacrilegious to laugh about the monotone speaker while being the wife of the man who was preforming a baptism later that morning! Luckily, God had mercy on me despite my predicament and eventually the service ended. The baptism was very short, touching and left a lasting impression on me. My husband read 2 spots of scripture regarding baptism. He had each person publicly confess their faith and then did the dunking deed. I don't know how to explain it, but there was something significant that happened that day both in me and in the people being baptized.
Later that day, we went over to Mist and Fiery's place. My friend, Mist, lives in a one room cabin with no plumbing, electricity or running water. She is, however, a Hollywood, CA Culinary Arts graduate. I brought over stew and biscuits despite their scolding. She made an incredible pastry with raspberry and huckleberry filling. We enjoyed a peaceful walk and a good visit. It was fun to see the progress on the new home that they are in the process of building. Mist always amazes me. She has such a good attitude and knows how to be content with little. Her spirit puts most women (including myself) to shame.
Today, I thought things would slow down. I lamely attempted to get the kids motivated on cleaning the house. They obliged, though they were tired of all the activity themselves. They wanted a day to rest and be kids too. "Work... work... work", I sounded like a broken record. Eventually, after cooking up a big breakfast and a half, watering the half scorched, half dead garden and grass in my back yard, cooking up a big lunch and doing a load of laundry, I collapsed on the couch myself, wishing for rest to come. Just about then, the hospital called asking me to come in tonight. Knowing I was short on shifts this pay period, I obliged.
I scooped up my grouchy baby and headed for a nap, kissing my husband "good bye" as he headed out the door for town. I hadn't bothered to get dressed that day, I had been so focused on getting the house in order. Amazingly, the baby and I slept for 2 hours or more. I woke up glad, but horrified seeing I only had an hour before I had to leave for work. In a flurry of activity, I began packing my lunch, instructing one of the kids to feed the baby some bites of yogurt and throw things hurriedly together. I remember thinking to myself "its a good thing I'm not getting any unexpected company looking like this". Quite shortly after that thought, at about 4:15 pm, there was a knock on the door. Dread followed. My kids hurriedly rushed to answer the door. Despite my foggy, sleepy brain, realization dawned that my hair was terribly dishevelled. I had slept in a pony tail that was now falling out with hair sticking up all over. I was wearing fuzzy purple pj bottoms. My cruddy, spaghetti stained shirt had an old breast milk ring stain in an anatomically correct, but socially incorrect spot. I hid behind one of the kids who answered the door. It was a man from the church dropping off something for my husband to work on. Before I knew it, I discovered that his wife was here along with their 5 grand kids! My kids ran off to play with the grand kids. Sheepishly, I slid out the door with my yogurt covered baby in front of me. Eventually, the baby abandoned me to crawl in the dirt while I chit chatted with the couple. It was now 45 minutes till I had to leave for work. As the clock ticked, I began to feel quite overwhelmed. The baby was covered in yogurt and dirt. I had a mental picture of myself and my baby on the front of a "white trash documentary".
I have this deep, burning desire to be hospitable, yet I really couldn't be late for work. I'm annal about being late to work. Just when I thought I would collapse under the pressure of not wanting to be rude, but knowing time was running out for my departure, they insisted I go inside and get ready for work. Despite my stress, I made it to work on time, got a much needed shower and my daughter gave the baby a bath, and it all worked out just fine.
Fine, that is, except for my rebellious bladder. I can't seem to make it the hour long drive to work without making a pit stop in the bushes some where along the drive. Most of you have gas stations along the way. For me, its only trees and isolated cabins. There is no place to go when you gotta go. You just gotta... well.. go. This often presents a problem. I usually don't want to take the time to drive down a dirt road or go too far into the forest. After 5 babies, Miss Bladder has no patience. She says "you're gonna stop now!" She resembles a spunky, manipulative, prune faced old woman. All too often I end up splashing urine on my scrub pant bottoms because of her insistance. Of course, being a nurse, I'm going to encounter urine at some time during my shift any way. I suppose that I'm just getting a head start splashing some bodily secretions of my own on myself.
Not all that long ago, my husband stopped for that demanding female, "Miss Bladder". She insisted I squat down in front of the car. My husband honked. I rolled my eyes, sure he was fooling around trying to make me jump. No sooner did a scoff escape from my lips, but an on coming car drove by, witnessing a full moon in broad day light. Whatever you do, don't tell my daughter, author of the new "Modest is Hottest" Blog spot. Actually, she was in the car. I have yet to live that one down.....................