Battery Acid Has No Caffeine And Other Funny Lines

Martha:  Why don't you just poor battery acid down your throat?
Henry:  No caffeine.


On particularly tough mornings should I, for example, sleep in, forget my glasses, have a remarkably defiant 3-year-old son, a 4-year-old daughter with the sour attitude of a teenager, twin almost-2-year-olds who don't understand that having one's sibling briefly touch one's possession does not mean losing that possession for all eternity, when the day looms ahead with everything hanging on from yesterday, yesterweek, yesteryear that hasn't gotten accomplished and the coffee just can't brew fast enough, I mentally turn to Keaton.

Yeah, that's right.  Michael Keaton.

Anyone familiar with Keaton's work might just assume Mr. Mom.  Sure, that would be an easy assumption and an apt comparison, i.e. dealing with an overwhelming life with kids.

But they'd be wrong.

Uh-uh.  I'm talking about the opening scenes of The Paper, one of the best movies ever.  EVER.  And really just the whole thing.  If you haven't seen it, go get it.  No, I don't care if you're at work or making dinner or performing a neurosurgery at the moment.  GO GET IT.  (And by the way, I think it's extremely bad form to be reading this blog whilst performing neurosurgery.  I know it's truly gripping, but for shame.)

Between the hectic, flawed personal/professional lives of the characters played by some seriously talented actors -- the aforementioned Keaton as well as Glenn Close, Robert Duvall, Randy Quaid, Marisa Tomei, and seriously Jason Alexander is pretty great in there, too -- it's a spot-on portrayal of getting the stuff kicked out of you by the things you pour yourself into and really care about.  Plus it's just a really funny film (despite the very harsh language).

And since it seems to be one of those days, I believe that once the kids are in bed, I will be doing my darndest to hunt it down on cable, pour a glass of wine, and commiserate with Henry, Martha, Bernie, Alicia, and McDougal over stumbling and pushing through the tough stuff and remembering to focus on what's really important at the end of the day.

Feel free to join me this time or any other as this day will most certainly be coming around again and again.

And as always, thank you, God, for giving me people in life who are and a life itself that is so amazingly worthwhile.  Amen.

Gratitude

Hallelujah!  And Amen!  And Glory, Glory! 

What is this you say?  What miracle has occurred you ask?  I'll tell you.  A life or death (not really) battle of the will has been won.  Me versus Me in a fight to the finish (of a work assignment).  Me won!!! 

Luckily Me had God on her side because the other Me was bringing Me down.  Confused?  That's okay.  I talk funny when I'm sleepy. 

I had been working on this assignment for wayyyyyyyy longer than it should have taken.  I thought it would never be done.  So last night, I was working on it, eventually whilst simultaneously sleeping.  (Oh, yes, I am a master sleep typist.  It looks something like "Sir, can you please explain how youffje'wafeejr ;areoa' zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....", which does not make for a happy client.)  So I decided to go to bed and set my alarm for five hours later.   I have discovered I need at least five hours in order to maintain my usual sweet and sunny disposition.  (For those who know me, please kindly keep your comments to yourself.  Thank you.)

However, this was a risky move since in the past I have only jumped out of bed at 3:30 a.m. in order to angrily smash the button on my alarm clock so the infernal thing will never again dare to disturb my sweet, sweet slumber.  I rarely stop to consider the reason the alarm might have been set that early in the first place. 

But not today!  Miraculously, I almost crawled back in bed, but something made me get in that desk chair and start working.  I don't know what it was (or do I?).  It certainly wasn't the Me I'm used to.  I worked this morning from 3:30 a.m to 5:45 a.m. when I went into my normal whirlwind of jumping in the shower and getting the kids ready for their child development center.  But not before hitting a very satisfying "Send" button from my email account with my assignment attached. 

Hooray!  Thank you, God, for small (or maybe large) victories!

And this will be me tonight.... zzzzzzzzzzzz......

Life and Other Difficult/Wonderful Things

Ah, Leif.  And now the world can see a small portion of the funniness you bring into our lives...

Anywayyyy.... Does anyone know where I can get a free housekeeper?  Oh, and a cook, and a personal secretary, and while I'm at it, I'd like a professional barista to set up in my kitchen to bring me strong, strong coffee whenever I desire.  Because then I think I might be able to handle life with utter skill and elegance.  I'll be able to raise my kids, work full time, work extra time, keep up this dusty and cobwebby blog, and my small (read:  teensy weensy) jewelry shop, plus keeping a handle on the various birthdays and anniversaries and other special events and correspondence of every friend and family member I love and care about and take the kids on mahhhvelous day trips on the weekends throughout the city and, and, and....

No? 

Okay...

In the meantime, I'm enjoying the challenge... sometimes... Other times I want ship my family off to New Zealand and shut myself in my room for five minutes of quiet time.  (Note to self:  Find out if Air New Zealand offers discounts for a large-group, five-minute flight.)  But really in theory I love that my life is so challenging, even when I'm busy wishing it wasn't quite so HARD.

Very hard.  Right now, it's just very, very hard.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm so blessed in so many ways.  And I'm definitely not alone.  And I have this sick, twisted feeling that once it's not hard anymore, I might miss some of the hardness.  (Hey, I did say it was sick and twisted.)  I have so much, but the hard get's ya. 

So...   

Thank God for a God who listens to prayer.

Thank God for my finally being able to learn in 30-odd years of living not to wait until I'm screaming on the inside (and sometimes on the outside) to pour out all my fears and complaints and let Him grab me up. 

Thank God for a God who loves, loves, LOVES me when I'm handling life's challenges with a less than gracious (read:  crude, whiny, angry, mean) manner.

One of the awesome things I really love about having kids is scooping up one of them really, really enveloping them in my arms, hugging, laughing, and thinking later that God is doing the same with me.  Even when I'm showing him attitude worthy of a pouty, tantrum-throwing one-year-old, He wants to grab me up and tell me He loves me.

This is where I hope to keep my mind as I keep messily going forward each day.