Gloom, Despair and Agony on Me

I have another cold.

Tonight I have an obligation, a meeting to attend. Of course, I'll be late because first I have to put Babygirl to bed.

Tomorrow morning at 10:15 a.m., we are having our family portrait taken. I have all the clothes picked out, ready to go, but I can't decide whether to battle my hair and straighten it or whether I should just let nature win and have raucous curls. I'm also hoping to have some cosmetic surgery, pronto. Or at least find some good concealer.

All day tomorrow, my husband will be busy interviewing a candidate for youth pastor at church. Yeah, we know what that means. I will be home with the kids all day. I am so sick of being home alone with the kids. I want to drive my car somewhere. I want to walk down the city streets and look into store windows. I want to eat a meal in a restaurant with silverware. I want to leave whenever and come home whenever. I want to buy myself flowers and smell perfume at department store counters and read books in bookstores with no thought for the time.

Then tomorrow night, after spending a pleasant day with the brood, I will be having dinner at a church member's home with a bunch of other people, including the youth pastor candidate and his wife. They've flown in from Pennsylvania. (I want to fly in from Pennsylvania.)

The home is beautiful--I walked through it while it was under construction. I can barely contain my jealousy, though. These people had a gorgeous home before with marble countertops and a view of the Puget Sound and stained glass windows the wife created herself. And now, they built an even bigger, grander, more lovely home with a better view. (I want a home with a view.)

I'm usually quite happy with my house and my little odd-shaped yard ringed with wild hedges and determined ivy. Then I drive two miles down the hill to a home ten times nicer than mine and suddenly, I've gone from 1972 and shabby carpets to 2004 and I'm standing on carpet padded so luxuriously that my feet actually sink into it. I wash my hands in bathrooms with no water stains, no toothpaste smeared on the counter. I look out the windows and instead of seeing my moss-covered shed with its falling-apart door that needs replacement--I see lights twinkling on the rippling water of the Puget Sound. I hear the blaring horn of the ferry as it crosses the water. The kitchen is all about marble and stainless steel and spacious cupboard and suddenly, my own little kitchen with its dated cabinets and dull yellow-gold countertops looks even smaller and darker.

Jealousy has always been my issue.

Contentment is my goal.

Sunday always means church here and even if I don't go (because of sick kids), my husband is busy all day. This week, especially, he'll be busy all day.

I really hate weekends.

Then Monday all over again.

I realized all this yesterday--that I would have no time to myself--and I was really having a pity party, complete with balloons and noise-makers--and today God smiled at me and caused my baby to fall into a deep sleep. Actually, I think she napped because every day this week, I have followed the same routine. Upstairs at 1 p.m., nurse her until 1:30 p.m., put her in her bed. Today was the first day she actually curled up and slept. The other days, I let her cry for half an hour and when I retrieved her, she looked at me with big, teary eyes and said, "Night-Night" very regretfully. Like "how dare you make me go night-night!"

I'd also like to point out that God must love me because tomorrow, the weather is supposed to be spectacular. The temperatures will reach sixty-degrees and it's supposed to be mostly sunny. After the pictures, maybe we'll do something fun outdoors.

A girl can always dream. Even a jealous girl.