Guess where I slept this weekend?
In my bed, in my new room!
Call me a Pollyanna, but I know that underneath all the bags and boxes lies a room of great beauty. And in spite of every inch of muscle in my entire body which screamed as I lay down to sleep the first night, I know I'll soon sleep like a baby. Even though I must now either exit into the cold Iowa winter to enter the downstairs or crawl through a hole in the wall eventually I will have a whole inner-connected house.
I do like the uniqueness and adventure of the whole process. I suppose there is something to be said for ripping off a chunk of plastic and "voila!" exposing a perfect room.
But if that was the case, would I truly appreciate it?
And the story factor. What a tragedy it would be if my children couldn't reminisce and laugh about crawling, in their Sunday best, through the hole in the wall. Or how about the treasure maze from the kitchen to the unfinished stairs to half dry-walled painted walls to nearly-completed-except-for-the-pile-of-flooring living room opening into the piece-de-resistance - the perfect bedrooms?
On another note, I love cracking people up. Or maybe I just love easy laughers.
My day job gets a bit dry. We're talking medicine, x-rays, insurance and blah routine. My clinic is a far cry from Grey's Anatomy, though I could share some sentences that would curl your toes. Did you know that food is often used to describe bodily malfunctions? I'm sure watermelon flesh gives you a lovely visual.
But I digress. Today, I had a giggler. She made me feel like Jerry Seinfeld. This is the line that really got her going..... "Okay, you can step back and breathe now if you didn't breathe at okay. I hate it when I have to say, 'oh, honey, you're blue. In x-ray talk okay means you can breathe.'"
She laughed so hard I had to hold up on the second x-ray.
When you got it, you got it, what can I say.
And should you not agree with her assessment of my humor -- feel free NOT to comment.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.