Yesterday didn't look to be a good day, and yet somehow it was.
I stayed home from playgroup just so I could catch up on a little bit of life. It was totally liberating.
I went to the doctor. I scheduled this visit back in January knowing where I usually am at this point post-partum. (Gotta schedule to see him 3 months out, no kidding.) I intended to ask him for meds, HOWEVER, he and I agreed that whatever I experienced last week was "temporary insanity" (my terms, not his) and that it isn't time for meds just yet, BUT, if I do need them, all I have to do is call in. This is very good news because I didn't want to give in just yet. I truly believe God is gong to work this thing out and holding a 'script "just in case" doesn't seem like I am exhibiting much faith. That isn't to say that there is no place for meds, because there certainly is. I was in that place with my last two, but this time I seem to be okay as long as I don't add on a lot of "stuff." My meltdown occured on a day when Charming wasn't sleeping, I'd been out of the house several days in a row, needed to bring people dinner, and had some unfinished writing that needed to be done. Too much stress equals crazy Jamie. Especially when a newborn is involved. Anyway, off the subject, it is always good to see my doctor. Weird, huh?
Frodo asked Jesus into his heart. The circumstances were kinda wild, and we were driving in the van so I felt like we were flying by the seat of our pants, but hey, it stands sharing. I know that at this point it is an inherited faith rather than a chosen faith, but I consider it a good start. After all, "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it." Right? Right.
Hubs succeeded in avoiding a nasty debt load yesterday. Sometimes knowing you won't be responsible for a debt that you shouldn't be responsible for, but people are trying to stick on you anyway, makes a person feel rather rich. I may have to go out and buy milk today to celebrate.
Charming slept 9, count 'em, 9 hours last night.
I lost three more pounds. I stagnated there at 143 for almost three weeks and I was getting a little worried, but this morning I'm down to 140. Still a ten, but I can see the 8s on my horizon.
Yes, that makes for a good day.
And this morning I was reading in my Bible when I ran across this passage that I've read lots, but that living breathing Word made fresh: Throw out the mocker, and fighting goes, too. Prov 22:10. Since I posted that thing the other day about me being super sarcastic I've worried a bit about it. I knew I had a sarcastic streak, but now I'm wondering if I drop the sarcasm would the drama around my home smooth out some? I'm sure it will. Kids don't understand sarcasm, I know that. It is a habit I've got to get a handle on.
I remember the exact moment when I decided to use sarcasm for my benefit. A friend's older sister was looking into a mirror and commented that she was getting heavier and looked to me to say something. And the truth is, she was. I don't like to lie (that whole train up a child thing at work). I said something like, "nah..." When she laughed at me and said something like, "I know it's true, Jamie, don't strain yourself." I had hours of what-I-wish-I'd-said coursing through my brain. The correct response should have been "Oh, yeah, you're huge" in just the right tone of voice. And over the years, I've mastered the technique. Now I think I need to kill it. I'll let you know how it works.