I'm not always sure how to respond to people. Partly because I am a weirdo, partly because well.... I guess that's about it. I'm just a weirdo. Take today for example. I had suggested going to the lake for our girls fitness/devotional day. As the day got closer, I began to obsess on how things were going to go. Suddenly, my mother (another one of my personalities), came out. I began giving the other women advice. "Make sure you bring water". I told one. "Please bring dry clothes for your children". I recommended to another. Every time I heard her come out, the other part of me started screaming "stop it!! You sound just like your MOTHER!". I guess you just get to a certain age and you evolve into your maternal figure. I don't know, but it feels a bit like a low budget horror flick. Not that I don't love my mother (of course I do). My mom rocks. She's great. She's cool. She's the best ever mom. She's most likely reading this!!! Anyway, its just that I am supposed to be the irresponsible, fun, care free one. SHE is the mature thinker who always packs everything into her "train case" and has it all ready at the drop of a hat. If you need anything, ask my mom. If you are hungry, she's got food. If you're thirsty, she's got water. If your broke, she can come up with funds from somewhere. If you need somebody to get a horrible stain out of your favorite, best ever outfit, Mom's got the solution. If you have any buggers, ear wax or other assorted grossities, my mother will do the job. She's always prepared with every remedy and possible answer.
I began to think about what these other women must be thinking of me. Here I am, badgering them to be prepared. It was quite frightening. Well, its OK, because after I told one of them to bring dry clothes for their kids, I neglected to have any dry clothes available for my own six year old. Thank Heavens, there is a little bit of me left after all.
And so, we embarked on having our girls day at the lake. I left early so I could fish with my friend, Goat Girl. I multi-tasked by balancing Moonbeam on my lap and nursing her while I casted and reeled. It was a nice excursion. I also considered baking a cake at the same time, but I had neglected to bring some flour along. It was a peaceful, beautiful day. The lake was calm and we laughed together over various topics. We imparted pearls of wisdom to one another which I am not at liberty to share.
We had a nice group of women. The picnic was fun. I read from "The Love Dare" and from Luke 19. The kids played well with the exception of my baby getting bitten by a vampire child who happens to be the toothy offspring of my good friend Hazel. What do you do when somebody else's kid bites yours and draws blood? You have to fight your maternal instinct to get upset. Of course the other mother feels bad. I am after all, an emergency room nurse. I'm supposed to be prepared to handle blood. Usually I am cool as a cucumber. Today, I was a bit frazzled. I was trying to smile and be polite at the same time trying to console my screaming baby. Finally, I shoved something into her mouth which I am not at liberty to discuss. She was much happier. In my maternal mind I was thinking "oh my God, my precious baby is bruised! she's bleeding! she's hurt!" All the while calm as a cucumber emergency room nurse is saying "it's just a flesh wound, suck it up." The polite part of me is attempting an odd looking smile which possibly makes me look uptight or constipated. I am trying to continue the chit chat, but it is sounding more like a confused babble. I don't remember much of what I said other than something like "what a nice day out, can you believe your baby drew blood?!
As you can see, up until the dreaded dastardly deed of the vampire offspring, it was a lovely day. Moonbeam was quite pleased to taste dirt along with smashed bananas (as pictured here).
