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Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #17

29 Thursday Apr 2021

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Foolishness

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, disappointment, disasters, food, groceries, humour


Dear Diary – Stop the world – I want to get off!

This week read like bad sitcom script…or just a never-ending Monday!

I hate Mondays!

Garfield

Last Thursday was a day of disappointment. The grocery store didn’t sell purple food colouring for next week’s birthday cake, and we discovered the restaurant I chose for my birthday dinner…is permanently closed. Despite being lactose intolerant, I’ve had my mouth fixed for 9 cheese ravioli (because anything less than 9 is just foolishness) for 2 years! I’m aware of the consequences of dairy, and I was prepared to deal with them, even if my family was not! Neither disappointment should be reason to mope, but with the long absences from family and with what should be a special occasion looming, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Friday began as a day of hope. My friend made some phonecalls and found purple food colouring at the Bulk Barn. I called them right away. Not only did I get my colour, I also replaced my star icing tip and restocked my spice cupboard. It’s the little things! When I went to pay in person, their debit machine was attached to a hockey stick. What a Canadian thing to do!

Friday evening, Hubby had his astrozenica vaccination. He felt lousy for the weekend and had a migraine Sunday night. Otherwise, he seemed fine.

Monday began with a jolt! Hubby woke me early with a very suspicious mark on his arm. I made him coffee, gave him my cell phone, because his was, of course, completely dead, and dropped him at the E.R. at 8.

Traffic was deliciously light. I made tea and a couple phone calls when I got home. I didn’t want my friend texting Hubby and getting mad at me because I wasn’t replying. I was supposed to pick up groceries for her and for my family at 10. Hubby was in and out quickly, and he’s ok! But when he called me to pick him up, our phone was busy (sorry), and his phone, we later discovered, turns off when it charges. By the time we connected, he was almost home. It was a long, cold walk…

While he was walking, he missed a text from Big Guy telling us he was not having a good day. His transmission blew up and he only made it halfway home from work. He was stuck on the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck!

I never did get my groceries. My grocery reservation magically “disappeared” and all the other time slots were full. I reserved for Tuesday. Turkey leftovers!

2021 got a lot crappier Monday night. I was supposed to shower Monday morning, but I’d had an early, uncaffeinated morning hospital trip…so I decided to stink all day and treat myself to a long, hot shower Monday night. Instead, I discovered that every time we flushed, did laundry or washed dishes, sewage was backing up in the laundry room. I called the town at 8 and after investigating, they connected me to a plumber. Even though we’d like to return the favour and make noise to irritate wake our neighbours, we arranged for them to come Tuesday morning. We could stink for the night and cross our legs for the next 12 hours. There’s always the tree out back! It’s just like camping, but without the lake.

Typical teen was “annoyed” Tuesday morning because he had to attend virtual school upstairs instead of his batcave. He immediately blocked out all the daylight. I wonder if coffee would’ve helped. He thought a “little water” was no reason to change routines. I had to point out it was “poo water”.

We managed to get through our morning ablutions before the plumbers arrived. I tossed our bowl of “washing water” out the back door like a true hick. But I don’t want to talk about the bucket.

The universe continued to conspire against me. First, my grocery reservation was lost, again. Second, the bank cancelled my credit card, for fraudulent activity in the amount of $4.16. The IT guy at Loblaws assured me my reservation for Wednesday was solid. I could pick food up after my physio torture therapy appointment. Maybe the third time is the charm?

I had stale mini marshmallows and toast for lunch.

Someone offered to uber me alcohol! It was very tempting!

Tonight is my second humour class. Our homework was to make note of humorous anecdotes in our week.

My whole life is anecdotal!

Good-bye “Monday”!

Monday is like a math problem. Add the irritation, subtract the sleep, multiply the problems, divide the happiness.

Unknown

Dear Diary – I woke up this morning optimistic that today I would feed my family. My grocery pick-up would go off without a hitch. I would bake my birthday cake without the usual disaster. And I would enjoy “Halo night” with Big Guy.

I drove to the grocery store in a blinding thunderstorm right after my physio torture therapy appointment, and parked in Space #5. I called to let them know I had arrived and settled in to play my Word game on my phone. I immediately got stuck.

While rain had cleared when I notified them of my arrival, it was a torrential downpour when the rather sodden clerk arrived with my baskets. Small talk was impossible over the white noise of nature. With the ineffectual wipers on full, I merrily headed home.

The rain slowed to a steady dribble as I began unpacking the jumble of wet plastic bags in the trunk. But under the jumble, was a haphazard layer of unbagged items. Someone had carefully tied my bags of milk in bags and knotted the handles, but didn’t bag 1 can of pasta sauce, 1 carton of apple sauce, 2 blocks of cheese, 2 blocks of butter, 2 cartons of eggs, 2 bags of hamburger buns, 4 loaves of bread, and 2 chocolate bars. The receipt was a soggy wad of paper. All the bags I had transported thus far had been full so those items had not slipped out on the slow trip home. There were simply no bags.

By this time, I had taken most of the bags inside so I had carry the odds and ends in my arms. I nearly dropped the eggs…twice. My bread was squished. My cheese was dented. I have no idea how the eggs survived.

Worse, I was missing 2 chocolate bars. I had ordered 4. One for the 3 of us (and one for my emergency stash)! After all this trouble, most normal people would cut their losses, but…chocolate!

With my vision darkening around the edges, I abandoned the bags at the door and called the head office number. The estimated weight time was 30 minutes. I wasn’t willing to listen to 30 minutes of covid announcements, so I called the store. Something in my voice made them send me straight to the manager. I kept my tale light-hearted, with a barely distinguishable quiver in my voice. I could feel myself finally slipping over the edge.

A shaft of light broke through the clouds, angels began to sing, and this lovely growly-voiced man refunded half of my grocery bill.

I’m still short 2 chocolate bars.

Dear Diary – It’s my birthday!

The purple cake is baked. I had a great evening playing Overwatch online with Big Guy and his friend.

My parent’s gift is waiting for me at a store nearby.

And Big Guy just texted that he ordered me breakfast. It’s arriving in 10 minutes.

I’d better get dressed…

Oh, yes I can make it now the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is that rainbow I’ve been praying for

It’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day!

Jonny Nash, I Can See Clearly Now

A Little Disappointment

26 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Foolishness

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

children, disappointment, humour


I can’t explain how disappointing it is to anticipate something that never quite

Are you disappointed that I didn’t finish that thought? Life is full of little disappointments.

Last night, I seriously thought it was the last week of swimming lessons. It was not. It was Week 8 of 9…That means I have one more week of….

  • deadlines. Deadlines to cook supper, to finish homework, to get out the door on time.
  • explanations. Things like why Little Guy can’t wear flip-flops in the snow.
  • driving. In rush hour traffic, with people who run red lights, use their horn for no apparent reason, and think that headlights are a suggestion and not the law.
  • staring. Staring at the back of parents’ heads in the front row, as they stare at their screens instead of their kids.
  • listening. To mouthy kids who ignore their parents, to parents who threaten their mouthy kids but take no action, and to loud videos games with annoying jingles.
  • “Big Daddy”, who moves slower than molasses in January, hogs the change room in the Family Room, and then complains to staff when someone uses the bathroom to change because their child was dying of hypothermia waiting for him to move out of the change room (I also take exception to parents who reserve a room while their child is enjoying a long shower).
  • molding. As in wet towels left for days in a plastic bag, which I didn’t see because I was cleaning the guinea pigs before I was too tired to put words sentence in a fashion orderly…

One more Tuesday night swim class to go.

Life’s disappointments are harder to take when you don’t know any swear words.” – The Indispensable Calvin and Hobbes, p221

Grand Disappointment

28 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Family

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

disappointment, family


Friday night was the annual Awana Grand Prix. Little Guy carefully chose the design of his car – he helped cut it out and sand it. He helped tape and paint it, and decorate it with rhinestones. The car itself was 100g too light but he didn’t want to add weights because he wanted to stay true to his design. He was putting all his “eggs in one basket” and was sure he was going to win a trophy for design.

Cutting with a coping saw
Cutting with a coping saw
Spray painting
Spray painting
The final product!
The final product!

Hubby and I did our best to point out that his car wouldn’t be fast. We reminded him that there were going to many great designs and he might not win! We did our best to prepare him to be a good winner or a good loser.

His car lost every heat but he just shrugged and said “That’s okay. I don’t care if I lose”. I was so proud of him. In what seemed an eternity, trapped in a gym that smelled of sweat and WD40, with overstimulated children and overtired parents, they announced the winners…

I saw the moment he realized his name wasn’t going to be called, the moment his heart broke. He buried his head in my shoulder and I knew there was nothing I could say that would make it any less painful. We headed home with heavy hearts, and he announced that he quit, that he didn’t want to build a car next year…

Life is full of disappointments and heartache. I am hoping that, in time, Little Guy will build up the strength, resources, and the resilience to cope better with the truly big disappointments that will come his way. I am hoping that he will learn to appreciate the successes and to value the lessons he can extract from the disappointments. To separate his self-worth from his circumstances. To be able to see beyond the closed door to the new opportunity rising on the horizon.

Henry David Thoreau wrote: “If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment”.

By Sunday night, Little Guy was still pretty upset, but he had decided that he might try again next year. And this time, he was going to do all the work himself. I think he’s going to be alright…

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

27 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Family

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

birthday, disappointment, family, humour, sweets


Have you ever said or done something that you wish you could take back? When I was 6 or 7, I said something to my Grandpa that I wish I could take back. It was spoken in frustration, and everyone thought it was hilarious…well, not at the time they didn’t!

In my family, as in many families, April is the big birthday month…I have cousins with birthdays, my brother has his birthday, my Grandpa has his birthday…and at the very end of April, after all the parties, all the cakes and candles, it’s my birthday. When you’re 6 or 7, birthdays are a big deal…and having to sit (happily) through so many birthday parties, and cakes and candles…was not that much fun!

Especially my brother’s birthday – he liked to rub in it my face that his birthday came before mine. I was the hated “little sister” – in fact, in many ways, I’m still the hated “little sister”. I think he thinks I was little and cute, and everyone adored me and I got all the attention. I would happily point out that he was the oldest and therefore he was treated like a grownup, while I was lumped in with my little cousins (the closest being 9 years my junior). I’m sure anyone can find an excuse for why their position in the family was the “best” or the “worst”!

I’ve never heard of this until this year, but there are actually families where siblings get to choose whether or not their brother/sister can attend their birthday party. I think my brother usually hid in his room when I had a party, but that was because he didn’t want to hang out with his little sister and her dorky friends, not because he was asked to leave the house! I was around for his parties, but often didn’t participate in the games because I was the dorky little sister. BUT we always got to share the cake – the most important part of the party!

Back to my story of regret. The last party of the month (before mine, that is) was my Grandpa…and I guess one year I was feeling particularly weary of waiting for my turn, and I didn’t want to wish my Grandpa a “happy birthday”! I was a good kid – I usually did what I was told, so when my mother insisted, I muttered very quietly, “Happy Birthday Dumb One”. My mother was horrified and I’m sure her retribution was swift. I honestly don’t remember. But nearly every year I am reminded of that awful moment when the blackness of my little heart was exposed. I find myself apologizing to this day!

82 (or is it 83) years ago today, my Grandpa was born at home, in a blinding snowstorm. He was over 11 lbs (I’m amazed that my Great-Grandmother went on to have 2 more kids after that)! This year he’s celebrating in the hospital, having become so ill with an infection we almost lost him a week ago. He is weak and his appetite hasn’t quite come back, but I have no doubt that he’ll manage a sweet cupcake or two today. Wish I could join him.

I also wish I could take back what I said and replace it with something more like “Happy Birthday Loved One”. Instead, my outrageous lapse in courtesy will be forever branded in family lore. At least we can laugh about it now.

Waiting for Little Guy – Part II

22 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Faith

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

babies, Bible, blessing, disappointment, failure, faith, family, fertility, fruitful, hope, infertility


My favourite Bible teacher, Beth Moore, believes that God gave women 4 girlish dreams: 1) to be a bride; 2) to be beautiful; 3) to be fruitful; and, 4) to live happily ever after. I also believe that God does not give us dreams that He is unprepared to fulfill or replace with a grander dream of His own. He doesn’t always fulfil our dreams as we expect or ask. Today I’m going to focus on #3, to be fruitful – for now, let’s view “fruitful” as having children. But what if, for some reason, you couldn’t have a baby, you’re infertile?

Infertility is defined as the inability to conceive within 12 months. It is estimated that 1 in 6 couples will experience infertility. Some people say that in our culture, children are no longer a prerequisite to a full life, there aren’t the same expectations or pressure to have offspring. But when your biological clock is ticking…and it’s LOUD… and you want a baby SO badly that it’s all you can think, all you can see around you, all you could dream about at night, all rationalization goes out the window! The heart takes over. It’s not something we talk about openly. Deep down, an infertile woman struggles with shame, guilt and an overwhelming sense of “failure”. Satan can sow shame in virtually any soil; infertility is fertile soil.

In 2003, my husband and I decided to have a baby. We had been married 7 years and there were many times over those 7 years that I wondered if we would ever both be at that place. Before trying to conceive, I asked God “to close my womb” if it was not the right thing for us, or not the right time for us. I wanted God’s will to be done in my life. I don’t know what prompted me to pray this way…but God answered, and as the months passed, the disappointment, the obsession, the sense of failure, and all the questions grew. It seemed there were pregnant women every where I looked. I dreamed about babies. I remember having a dream so vivid, that when I woke up I could still feel a baby in my arms. And it seemed at that time that other areas in my life started to fall apart as well. To put it bluntly, I felt like I was in a dark hole with no escape, I was drowning and there didn’t seem to be anyone close by, not even God. I begged, I raged, I bargained, I tried to ignore God; sometimes I simply sat with Him because I had no more words. I still wanted His will, I knew that even in my current anguish (for lack of a better word), He could be sparing more suffering if He answered my prayer, but it was not His best for me.

In 1 Timothy 1:19 Paul wrote to Timothy “I give you this instruction…so that by following them you may fight the good fight, holding on to faith and a good conscience. Some have rejected these and so have shipwrecked their faith.” I had a choice – keep swimming by looking to God and living faithfully, or let my faith be shipwrecked. If I let my faith be shipwrecked, where else would I go?

Eventually we were referred to a fertility specialist who ran some tests. I already knew there was no physical reason we couldn’t have a baby. We elected to try the least invasive treatment, but if it didn’t help in 3 months, it wasn’t going to work. During that second month, I re-read Hannah. And that Friday morning, I prayed and I sobbed (as I had done before more times that I can count), but when I finished, I felt for the first time in a long time, that I could breathe. God was rescuing me – I wasn’t going to drown, I had hope and peace, and joy. God had another plan for me, a better plan for me. I could truly say that I had surrendered to Him. I thought I had surrendered before, but this was different. I was free.

The next day, I told my husband that I was willing to stop trying for a baby if nothing happened after this treatment. And I asked him to be patient with me, because I would need time to grieve the loss of this dream. 5 days after that conversation, I found out I was pregnant. God blessed me in 2 ways. Yes, he gave me Little Guy. But more importantly He gave me Himself. Yes, my circumstances changed, but more importantly God changed me in a profound way.

When I thought about being fruitful, babies used to be what came to mind. But God has shown me that that dream can represent a deeper desire to live fruitful lives, to invest ourselves in something that matters. God does not allow surrendered hearts to continue to long for things He will not ultimately grant in one way or another. Hearts surrendered to God can be trusted. Until we have surrendered our hopes and dreams, we have little way of knowing what would fulfill us. Most of us bank on circumstantial contentment, but we end up bankrupt. If-onlys (like the what-ifs) cling to us and drag us down…if only I was married, if only I had children, if only I had a bigger house, better car, perfect body…Unhappy women are not made happy by these things. An unhappy woman usually needs a change of heart than a change of circumstances.

I had a hard time getting pregnant after Little Guy, and when I did, I had a miscarriage. I was devastated by that loss and the loss of that dream. There are many women who I know that have never had biological children but God has blessed them with many children through Sunday school or children and youth programs. But you know what, all women become barren as we age, but it doesn’t have to mean that we’re done being fruitful! There are still opportunities to bear spiritual offspring. Moms and children in our families, in our church and in our community, who are desperately in need of someone to love them, to encourage them, and to point them to Jesus. Isn’t that what Moms and Grandmas do? We just sponsored another child through World Vision, and I cried. It sounds ridiculous, but in a way, the kids we sponsor are my kids. I pray for them, I encourage them and I point them to Jesus, and in turn, they are fulfilling a need in me. And now I’m asking God to show me others who I can be a “ Spiritual Mom” to – I can still have a fruitful life! God thinks outside the box!

Hannah surrendered her heart to God. Her circumstances may not have changed, but she did. God remembered her faithfulness and blessed her. God calls us to be faithful regardless of our circumstances, to be surrendered to whatever He chooses for us and where ever He calls us. When we are, He will change us. He will bless us with His presence. He will bless us in ways we cannot imagine. God created every life to be fruitful and to grow in grace!

References: “12 Extraordinary Women” by John MacArthur and “Breaking Free” by Beth Moore

Change is Inevitable…

31 Tuesday Jan 2012

Posted by jennsmidlifecrisis in Faith

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

disappointment, faith


It’s the last day of the month already – a month I will never get back! My weight has gone up, not down. My exercise schedule is collecting dust on the shelf. My hair is seriously in need of help. And I think my motivation has gone on vacation without me!

I was just sitting down to write my blog when I got a phone call from a friend…could I meet for coffee (neither of us drinks coffee)? He had that “we need to talk” kind of tone in his voice, so I rushed out the door (I did remember to brush my hair first). He did have “we need to talk” kind of news – not something horrendous like a broken marriage or a serious illness, but news that nonetheless breaks my heart. I am not at liberty to say what the news was, but it involves change – and not the “though it’s painful, it’s really a good thing” kind of change.

I know that change is inevitable, and I suppose life would be boring if it stayed static. We certainly wouldn’t grow character, or learn from our mistakes. But sometimes I wish the good things stayed the same for a little while longer.

I came home from the meeting and cried, then prayed…sort of like David in the Psalms. He often asked hard questions and wasn’t afraid to tell God “it’s not fair”! This situation is not fair! But I know from experience and from scripture that God is overseeing it all, and He sees the bigger picture, where I cannot. I just have to keep looking to Him.

I wish I could end this blog on a happier note, but life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. Emotionally I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mac truck. I certainly trust that this situation will have a good end, even though I can’t see it now, and it may be a long time in coming. Someone wise said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it isn’t okay, it’s not the end”!

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