Attempting to Choose Joy

There are times that joy is very much a choice....and it would just be so much easier to crap out about life and just pitch a fit. I contemplated many titles for this post.....all of which would've been fitting. Like perhaps "All Dressed Up With Nowhere To Go" or "When You Just Should've Listened". Yep...I'm notorious for this in our marriage. A trait that my husband finds both endearing and maddening at the same time. He absolutely adores the independent streak but the havoc it usually wreaks tests his patience to the max (or, as he uses when referring in texts to this quality I don't exactly possess, "patients"). I think he does this knowing that grammatical errors drive me nuts. I failed English 1 in college, never made it to English 2, failed the creative writing class I took, and got fed up and exasperated with the remedial English class I was required to take so dropped it. My dad, who directed our writing courses through highschool, continually found errors in my forms of writing and I'm not really exactly sure if I've ever passed a writing assignment by any teacher. I can pretty much guarantee you, I haven't. But, somewhere along the way a deep grasp of homonyms embedded into my brain along with a fanatical obsession with correct spelling. I suppose husband and I balance each other out and truly are each other's better halves. I inform him of his grammatical errors and he keeps me balanced in my patience lacking life.

So, the story of choice begins. We decided early last year as the depression still remained through failed adoption, Aubrey's ordeal and loss of baby that once a year we need to get away, just the two of us, for a weekend. We ventured up to Fort Worth Valentine's Day weekend for the getaway of a lifetime last year. Still reeling from the realization that we may truly never have more children and my complete failure as a parent on all fronts I didn't put much thought into that trip. It served only to get away and feel alive again. To escape the suffocating grief to some extent and feel life. Ironically, we returned home Sunday evening and I took a pregnancy test the very next morning that revealed two faint lines. Something two different dr's said would probably never happen again for our family. And two miracle boys were born 9 months later. But, given my state of mind going into that weekend, there was not much thought put into it. Nothing special...just getting away from here.

As our trip approached this year I have lived it, breathed it, dreamed it, since plans were made in January. With babies being fully weaned due to my lovely bout with rhabdo, it was a May weekend that promised to be absolutely childless...belonging to husband and I alone. And this year, being in quite the celebratory mood, I planned long in advance. I'm at the lowest weight I've been since the birth of Garrett. Since I have learned the art of being as frugal as humanly possible I searched the world over until three new pair of amazingly perfect jeans were found at 75% off. In my ventures I have also discovered that in being frugal there is no reason in the world to settle for second best. Just keep looking. Eventually you'll find something that brings utter delight to the heart and is a mere fraction of the original cost. So, I found my 64.00 jeans for 12.99, found a 60.00 tank top for 12.96, another nicer 50.00 sleeveless top for 13.99, 49.99 shoes for 9.99, and a pink rhinestone 65.00 belt for 9.95. And Mother, being Mother and out of a sheer love of blessing us, bought the 99.00 purse I found for 24.99. Much thought put into bringing delight as a wife and feeling like a million bucks as I prepared for this weekend. I searched the world over for a tolerable smelling tanning lotion, splurged full price on it, and gave myself a believable sunny glow. In the midst of it all my practical, non jewelry wearing self discovered that my tiny sz 4 wedding ring I refuse to have enlarged, since there is rarely a reason to wear it and I refuse to go up in any size, not only fit but slid on with room to spare. A new expert hair stylist was found that has an amazing reputation for cutting curly hair and a 20.00 appointment gave good riddance to the bottom, stringy witchiness of my layered hair. Soft, auburn curls cascading down back replaced hair that looked like it'd had hedge trimmers taken to it. It was, of sorts, a little tiny miniature honeymoon trip in which I desired for everything to be as good as it could get. For a little less than 100.00 I felt like a million bucks, knew I'd surprise him and was more than ready to go. And, with a little cash I'd managed to put away from the change of cash purchases, I had, unknowingly to him, managed to purchase a little something special for "after hours". Victoria's Secret clearance on their site. And yep...not even I will pay full price for that. Three different items for a total of 130.00 purchased for 35.00 + shipping, which upped it to 42.00...working out well given the fact I only had 46.00 to spend.

Preparations for the weekend took shape. Excitement mounted. And it became all I could think about. When patience was tested or days proved to be a little difficult my thoughts turned to our great weekend escape. So it was that we were to leave yesterday morning and return home after bedtime Sat night for his shift on Sunday. Just 3 days and 2 nights...but enough time to steal him away from his books, the station, and the tiny town water plant.

But...me, in all of my wondrous ability to listen and actually heed advice, readied the children last Friday night and was in the mood for a night on the town with all of them. Upon loading everyone and buckling in, running down the street to check mail and making a quick trip to the river to check perch trapping son's money earning traps van began making strange foreboding noises. Forgetting to have responsible oldest son put air in the back tire we returned home for him to fill it. While sitting I called shift husband and alerted him of abnormal noise. It was advised, as it always is, to immediately turn around and go home.....since he was under the impression we'd already hit the road and were already 20 miles into it when, in all reality, we were actually still sitting in our gravel driveway. I just didn't really bother correcting his wrong assumption. I knew that if I even began to let him in on that fact there was no chance in the world of ever making it to town....and I really wanted to go. We were, afterall, all presentable at one time. Boys all matched in town shirts complete with jeans, boots and belt..albeit a few of them had boots on the wrong feet. But, at least they were on. Only one had dug in dirt during the waiting to load period. None of them smelled too funky from running around in 101 degree summer heat. 5 boys all with spiked hair, despite the fact Garrett's albino blond head had turned green from the blue gel Evye had heaped within. Ivye had on a red Mary Jane and a camo flip flop with a smocked, pastel, flower dress. Despite best efforts, we failed to locate the other red shoe in the 2 ft deep floorboard piles of crap but we did manage to locate the other camo flip flop amid the debris. And it was later discovered into the night that somehow she escaped the confines of the house without wearing any underwear but since we have no less than 48 pair of differing sizes within the van that little glitch was quickly remedied. All was indeed going very smoothly and we were off to too good of a start to bring it all to a halt due to vehicle issues.

Yes, I had my mind made up that we were indeed traveling the 32 miles to town....which is really more like 40 or so if you factor in just making it to the city limits and then actually having to drive to the other side of it to reach civilization. With instructions given from concerned husband to turn around and go home I quickly and accurately deduced that it was due to our more than a little broken a/c and that we were fine. My obstinate self refused to stay home. And to inform him of our driveway status was to ensure home boundedness. I informed him that we could all mildly tolerate....mildly being completely relative....the lack of a/c. Nothing in me was about to stay home for the night and he gave up trying to convince me otherwise.

We met working mother for dinner out and then ran by the station to see shift husband, kids to see trucks, and say hello to all the guys. Husband listened to van and was quickly distraught over the less than thrilling noises it was seeming to put forth and gave instructions to start praying we make it the 40 miles home. We continued frolicking around town and eventually headed home...at 10:00 pm. Upon reaching lone highway speeds of 65 and 70 mph van began groaning and heaving heavily. Eventually it failed to accelerate and we began losing speed. And it was then that pulley gave, belt snapped, all functions of the beast came to an end. We pulled onto high Texas prairie grass as it billowed smoked, filled night air with nauseas smells of rubber and altogether quit running. However, I have learned along life's way that crap like this just doesn't matter and it's not worth ruining the night. We had all items needed to make quite the party out of it....an illegal amount of 75% off Easter chocolate, a pleasant 20 mph cool south wind, gusting to 27, a ton of bottled water, and a corn field for urinary output. It could be worse. It could be 100 degrees with no wind, no water, melty chocolate...or no chocolate at all, and daylight with nowhere to hide for little bladders needing relief.

I alerted husband to our current predicament in which he had to wait for overtime to come in to relieve him in order for him to come to our aid. So, children and I sat entirely merrily for an hour with night wind keeping everyone cool, drinking bottles of water, peeing in the cornfield, and eating chocolate. It was quite the party.

Van was eventually hooked to big quad cab Dodge and I got a crash course in becoming an expert behind the wheel of a towed vehicle.....an obnoxiously large one at that. We made it to the 20 mile mark before chain broke as we were pulled up one of the many rolling hills home. Big front end replacement cattle guard on truck pushed van off road once more. After another half hour of trying to rig chain up in other ways it was finally surmised that we'd need a tow rope to get it home and the need to leave it sitting overnight became apparent. So, with 2 older children in bed of truck, 5 in the backseat, 3 more in the front, along with 2 adults, we finished the 20 miles home on dark, deserted, midnight highway. We went and fetched van the next day with a tow rope. And I drove like an old pro with no power steering and no power breaks.

I remained in good spirits...because we did, afterall, have a weekend coming of just the two of us and the world couldn't throw anything that would dampen my excited positive self.

And then it came. My little independent streak cost me dearly. Money put forth for weekend babysitter and hotel was now needed for....wait for it....

the van.

And, shall we even attempt to bringup the little 200.00 that disappeared out of our bank account because I couldn't seem to tell the convincing door to door Heritage Life Foundation insurance dude that we did not want insurance. And so despite husband's adamency I signed up for it anyway just to get rid of the guy and 21 days into we were 202.00 less to our name....DESPITE the fact they said we would be out no money at all for 30 days and we could cancel anytime for a full money back guarantee before money ever went MIA...which I fully intended on doing. The dud e didn't seem to take no for an answer, I couldn't get him out of the house, and though he was quite mesmerized and amazed by our children they were growing quite feral and I really needed to fix dinner...and he wouldn't leave. So, I signed up for it, graciously ushered him out the door...finally, and husband had an absolute coronary upon returning home and finding out. And in my well laid out plan, it all backfired and now we had a paralytic van needing more than a little of our funds along with 28.00 in our bank account until the next paycheck due to my creative ingenuity and inability to get rid of a dude.

But, me in all of my mortal self, could not even begin to imagine that I had done so much damage by failing to heed husband's advice in more than a few areas. And I refused to believe that this all meant we truly could not go. So, I pushed and I shoved and I schemed only to truly realize there was absolutely no way we were going to be able to go on our weekend excursion. And then...despite my best efforts at staying positive....I just got a little bit mad...or rather, more like, infuriated. It was, afterall, the only thing I had looked forward to for months now. And we don't ever splurge....ever. Because when you live on a fire salary slurging is just not possible. So, these moments...or weekends...come few and far between, if ever.

In all of my fury I ran the house like a tight ship with little to nothing said. I ignored husband's chatty texts, being in no mood whatsoever to talk. He eventually comes home to discuss my silence, asking, "Are you mad at me? Cause I really am trying to to make ends meet. Do you not believe that? Do you not see it?" After a minute of suppressing what I wanted to bark back I told him, practicing much self control in the deal, "You really don't want me to answer that right now because anything that comes out of my mouth right now is going to be really superbly ugly. So, I am better off not saying anything." In typical husband fashion, he repeats the question. And when he failed to take the hint...or just chose to ignore it....repeated the question yet a 3rd time the volcanic and chemically unstable fury lying in wait within exploded forth. And my pity party expanded upward and outward to include anyone and everyone we know. And dare I admit....it even included how we are continually being tested and tried...mostly financially....and I no longer wish to build character, desire to learn from it, have no longing at all to grow anymore as a person and am fed up with the trials and the testing and the faith in trusting the Lord with everything within our lives only to be disappointed over and again. In the heat of the moment I was a bit irrational. I did not bother to look at the fact we have been given TEN children, I am not infertile and never have been, that I have a husband that, at the ripe old age of 36, measures up to far beyond what most men in life will ever be even after decades of life experience. We've been given twins TWICE, that our babies are exceedingly happy and as roly poly as they come, our children are healthy and tan and strong and live outside because we have the acreage for them to live outside and the trees to climb. That we live on 3 acres with 3 dogs and a horse and a few pet chickens with cats and newborn kittens, That Grayson taxidermys, Evye does barrels, our children hunt and fish, that we own two trampolines and a massive wooden swingset. We live a life that most people would give up everything to live. But, no. I was hell bent on what I don't have, and mad, and disappointed so I brushed tangles from hair way too determinedly and now am quite certain half of the hair I possessed no longer even remains. I stripped while diarrhea of the mouth continued, climbed into shower mad, and never quit talking as husband stood quiet, observing, listening. When 30 minutes of disgruntled fury ended a few seconds went by before the sound of the bathroom door could be heard quietly shutting. And there was no remorse whatsoever for the vomit I had just spewed forth.

With shower offering no reprieve or comfort I cleaned up my baby that had blown poop from his saucer to the backdoor and then I escaped to facebook, only to find a world of merriment of those out on the town, attending the bookfair, eating dinner at Cracker Barrel, On the Border, and the Olive Garden, posting pics of positive pregnancy tests, posting pics of new adoptions, announcing pregnancy news or births and I sunk a little deeper into my pit of despair. And I know because we're missing 202.00 because of my inability to deal with people or be rude we have absolutely no money to even have a date for Mother's day. So, as the world celebrates Mother's Day I will be here fixing all 3 meals as my station husband works and the day will not differ from any other in life. The weekend we had planned will never come to fruition and the van will, in all reality, sit crippled for 3-4 months considering the extent of the work it requires, and I am completely unable to go anywhere at all.

Husband fell asleep and hot, miserable, selfish tears fell. And I remembered two years ago and I pondered the ways of the Lord, and I wonder why He does what he does, and why when we trust Him so implicitly to provide on our meager little fire salary He chooses not to provide a dependable vehicle when I know he must have no less than 50 thousand million new ones at His disposal. And we have been on our knees and we have praised Him in the storms and we have made our requests known to Him, we have been through the valley of the shadow of death with Him, we have written His truth upon the tablet of our hearts. And He is our provision, man is not. But if is He our provision, why does He not meet the need?

...unless a vehicle is not a need but a mere desire that American society dictates as a need.

So, I rose today and I went into solitude from the world at large. And I began to focus on what I have here instead of what the rest of the world has that I do not. And I determined through my tears that I will choose joy....because it is very much a choice at this point. And I can make the best of it or the worst of it. The fact is...I am in this boat and I can be happy in it or I can be miserable in it.........but, I'm in it. And why waste some of these precious days with growing children being miserable and focused on everything gone wrong when I can look at what I do have. It is what it is so I'm going to make the best of it...because misery, self pity and self absorption doesn't change it.

I rose to a new day, and smiled through my tears and the lingering disappointment. I said good bye to my husband tonight to work his half shift when we should be dressed up and strolling, hand in hand, through the city 250 miles away. I fed my two, roly poly, smiley, blue eyed babies and I listened to the tinkling wind chimes blow in the south wind and watched the westward skies as sun melted colors across it. Babies squealed and crawled on old wood floors and the contagious laughter of a lively 3 year old carried through the house. Tons of little boys ran and hid throughout the house and yard with long toy rifles chasing after each other and the sound of a 10 year old girl's laugh trickled through windows. She rode her horse and he noisily made the world aware of his devotion to her. Wee girl flitted through house in all of her girliness as she chatted and jabbered and busied herself with her full life and lived in the joy of the abundance of her 2 year old heart. It was then I realized that I have the joy and privilege of cleaning up explosive poop, and I am blessed enough to prepare meals for 10 children and even in the absence of a vehicle I have been given a home I absolutely love not having to leave...our entirely manageable 1800 sq ft with our 3 roomy bedrooms. Within walking distance to the river and fishing and dirt roads to run. I am not house bound. I run these roads and these hills in the quiet of the morning. I have children that are muscular and healthy and sun kissed because we do have the ability to stay home all day. I have not one but two Ergos to hike two babies to river. Driveway sharing neighbor's may deplore everything about us but they only come four times a year. It could be worse......they could live here...but they don't.

I am blessed. Despite my pity party and self centered ugliness. We may be confined here without the ability to leave for a few months and I may miss a Mother's Day meal out and I may have missed the bookfair and a little honeymoon away and a night out on the town....but, we have large quantities of food in our frig, I have ten absolutely, mind blowingly beautiful children and I not only have a roof over my head and my children's but it's a roof I adore. I have good running shoes and 3 massive loyal running companions. Studying husband's test is in only two weeks and then he will return to me and the hours and months on end spent away from us will finally have come to an end.

I will choose to be content. I will choose to be happy. I will choose joy. Because right now, it very much is a choice I have to make.

......and I will be thankful and I will know joy and embrace it all because I have him in my life to clean up......

because that stuff he's smearing, stomping and playing in

.....it's not mud. And what's visible in this picture is a mere drop in the bucket to what lied in wait within his clothes and lying pooled in his seat.

I. am. blessed. I have all that I need...and so very much more. I have a Saviour that continues to love me despite my wretchedness, my selfishness, my pity parties, my self absorption. And He is faithful and ever present despite my 2 year old temper tantrums. And I do not doubt He feels the tears of disappointment that fell even throughout the writing of this post. And there is no condemnation, but only mercy and nothing but grace as He feels it all with me...just as I feel the tears and anger of my own disappointed children.

And I have a husband that tolerates even my worst of moods and listens in amusement when I unleash the rotteness within. He does not grow angry, weary or disheartened with me but merely smiles knowing my positive, happy self is merely around the corner and is soon to return. And in all of his infinite wisdom and patience he remains quiet and lets the storm pass. Without fail, his humor and directions to go take a few mood enhancing pills will encourage a grin to emerge from ill tempered wife and the intentisty of the moment is diffused. He loves me even still, and after I wear myself out he draws me close and just lets my tears fall against the rough bearded stubble of his face. He strokes long brown curls and whispers comfort and blankets the harshness of my words in his forgiving love.

And I have children that make Mother's day cards decorated with cotton balls and attempt to cheer the sad heart with made from scratch brownies and brewed coffee served with creamer. It's just all ok.