Yeah, I've been gone for awhile. Nope, it's not because we finally moved into our new house. Um, because there was a flood in our basement. Long story short - we turned on the water, and the only problem seemed to be a leaky faucet in the kitchen. We turned the valve to the faucet off, thinking, kay, we'll fix that. Left the main water valve on. 24 hours later, the floor under the kitchen/above Sadie's future bedroom was like a huge bathtub. A dishwasher part wasn't working, and water leaked from it. Her ceiling was as wet as a sponge. We had to take the ceiling down, and it was like Niagara Falls when it came down.
So yeah, we can't move in until that damage is repaired.
Sigh. Houses are not meant to sit alone for 2 1/2 years. We've been cleaning at the new house a lot, and I've been on the phone basically constantly for the past four days arranging appliance guys and flood repair guys and insurance crap. I still haven't packed one dang thing to move yet.
A few weeks ago, my sisters and mom and I had a pedicure night. We watched one of our all-time favorite movies - Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. We have every single word memorized. That's not an exaggeration. We watched it a LOT. Except we always fast-forwarded through Millie's two solos, "When You're in Love" and "Wonderful Day." Booooor-ing! We wanted to watch the action. The barn-raising dance, the stealing of the girls, all that stuff. Lex used to make us pretend to steal her. We'd throw a blanket over her head, throw her over our shoulder, and run.
It was really, really fun to watch it again after all these years. We still said every word out loud. We still sang every word to every song. We still thought "Wonderful Day" and "When You're in Love" were boring. And I wouldn't touch anyone else's toes. I have issues with other peoples' feet. I just did my own little pedicure.
Anywho, I've been thinking about Millie lately - how much energy that girl has. And yes, she is a fictional character, but I KNOW that women back in the 1800s worked their buttocks flesh off. ("Buttocks flesh" is my favorite phrase. I gleaned it from yoga. I have a yoga teacher who refers to your butt as your "buttocks flesh.") They didn't have electric ovens or mixers or dishwashers. They didn't have running water. I seriously, seriously don't know how they managed to cook and clean back then. I think I would have thrown myself into the nearest river.
So Millie marries Adam and they get up to Adam's farm. And then she realizes that he neglected to mention that he had six single brothers who live in his house that she now has to cook and clean for. Seven dirty, sloppy guys.
But then she puts her stuff down, rolls up her sleeves, and starts cleaning the mess. In the next scene, she's ringing the dinner bell, and she's made this huge, enormous meal for all of these men. Which means she had to make a LOT of food. After she cleaned this nasty kitchen for probably hours.
And then! The men act like hogs - grabbing stuff, not saying grace, not using utensils, and she gets so mad that she pushes the table over and stomps off to her room. But then the next morning, she has gotten up way before these guys (which is saying something, since they're farmers), made this enormous meal for them again, and washed all of their clothes.
I'm often surrounded by total filth. My kids are...well, slobs. I've tried off and on through the years to do a job chart, but it's like...mentally, I have a hard time with that. Because then I have to help the kids do the chores, which takes twice as long. And I know that it's the principle of the thing, and that you're teaching them to work, and I really, really believe in that. It's how I grew up. We worked our buttocks flesh off! And it was so good for us! All of us, as adults, are really hard workers now, and I really think it's because we learned to work as kids.
But to make a chart and then enforce it and then help the kids do it...I just...don't have the energy. I think it's part of this depression thing. Or because I have thyroid disease. Or because I have low testosterone. All I know is that I'm really, really tired all the time. And have a hard time getting motivated. And I get EXTREMELY overwhelmed. So I go to bed. Is my living room a mess of crayons and blankets and My Little Ponies? I go to bed. Do I have three days' worth of dishes waiting to be washed? I go to bed.
And I feel really bad about it. And really embarrassed about it. What is wrong with me? Where did all of my energy go?? When I was a teenager and young adult, I was overflowing with energy. And now I hardly have enough energy to feed my kids, keep them clean, make sure their homework is getting done, and keep their clothes clean. I feel like I'm barely treading water.
Honestly, I need to repent, because I often break the commandment that says, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor." Because when I see women who have all this energy, I get really, really, really jealous. And super-sad. I am not nearly up to par. And I really want to be.
My mood is really great. Exactly where it needs to be. My meds are doing their job. I feel like I can be acted upon without freaking out, but I don't feel like I'm acting to get things done. Does that make sense? I can handle if my kids are screaming now. I don't flip out and hide in my room. I can handle if my daughters' future bedroom gets horribly damaged from a flood. I didn't sob for three hours when it happened. I can handle that I spend most of my days on the phone trying to get our lives in order for this move. But can I pack one single, solitary box? No. Can I paint a wall? No. Can I clean the bathroom? No. And that really bugs me.
I need to Millie Up.