Whine: I got up extra-early today after a not so great night (courtesy of Brother Bear) to make some banana bread to take to Bible Study this morning. Then, just after cracking the eggs that I’d been sure to double-check I had enough of, I realized I had no flour. Zero. Unless you count whole wheat flour. Which I don’t.
Cheese: I got to exact my revenge on the still-sleeping Mr. Dad (the jerk!) and send him off to the grocery. The banana bread somehow got made and sliced in time to be just warm and tasty for my friends. (And I even saved a few pieces for Mr. Dad.)
When I started A Little Whine and Cheese I made a promise to myself. I told myself that I would never be the blogger that was constantly apologizing for gaps in posting. I knew even then in the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the blog that there would be times when life would just be too. . .lifey, and that blogging would have to go to the bottom of the list. I also knew that contant apologizing (which IS a specialty of mine) would just detract from my message of (I don’t actually know what my message is, but I knew it would detract.)
And so I’m not going to apologize.
But I will say it’s been lonely. I’ve missed you guys.
But I’ll tell you the real reason that I decided today was the day to ignore the crunched up cheerios and sticky banana bread pans and write. It’s because of Louanne. Louanne was the RA in my dorm who had the privilege of helping me ‘transition’ to life 1,000 miles away from my Mom. (Meaning, lots of hugging and crying.) I haven’t seen Louanne in thirteen years and seven kids (three for me, four for her), but she popped up on my Wall today and told me she needed a little Whine and Cheese. And it was such a good feeling to be wanted. And so I set aside the tasks that have been driving me (crazy) and started writing. The thing that makes me sad, though, is that it shouldn’t take someone else wanting me to write for me to write.
Because the truth is, as much as I miss writing for y’all, I really miss myself.
I’ve been working and pushing and running so hard lately that life just really isn’t that fun anymore. Now instead of saying ”That sounds fun!” or “When can we start?” when I get an ivitation or opportunity I say “How much is it going to cost?” or “How long is it going to take?” in as put-off and melancholic a manner as possible.
And I’m not depressed. I’ve been there before and this isn’t it. Yet.
But the longer I pretend that I only exist to work, to manage, to wrangle then to fall into bed, the closer I’m going to get to that point.
And of course I’m being all melodramatic about it and acting like I never get a break and poor me and SOMEBODY CALL THE WAAAAMBULANCE.
It’s just that I figure it’s easier to give myself permission to be myself and write and think and BE if I’m having some sort of meltdown than to just say that it’s really ok to stop the spinning plates and foster my insides a little bit. ‘Cause what’s coming up out from inside of me right now is no bueno. I’m brittle and dry and about to crack at any moment, which makes for some pretty terrific mothering, if I do say so myself. (PUTONTHESHOES, PUTONTHESHOES, PUTONTHESHOES NOW!!!!!) Not to mention poor Mr. Dad who, God bless him, thankfully is pretty good at dodging the Emoto-Rockets that I keep launching his way.
Me: You don’t think I’m funny.
Mr. Dad: You’re funny on your blog.
Me: What?? I’m hilarious in person. You must not love me.
Mr. Dad: Good night.
(You know, now that I think about it, maybe he deserved that 7AM grocery run.)
You know, all that to say, I am so thankful for Louanne and for all my readers/friends because you give me a good excuse to reacquaint myself . . . with myself.
Me: Why, hello, self.
Me: Hello. Might I say that I found you to be especially humorous today.
Me: Why thank you, self. But did you mean in writing or in person?
Me: Well both, of course.
Me: Ah, it’s good to be back.