The Making of M.O.M.

Whew! With all the heavy emotion around here associated with those last two posts I feel the need to write something light and airy.

Not to discount the importance or the reality of the last two posts (and if you haven't seen my update on "L" please click here) but I'm one of those people who begins laughing at funerals because too much sadness makes me so uncomfortable that I can't control myself.

I'm serious. At my step-mom's funeral back in June I almost burst out laughing during the service. Not because I think death is funny but because I think God made my brain too small to process the emotions involved with death and eternity and so I go to what I'm comfortable with...stupidity.

Sad, but true.

Anyway, I had to tell you guys about my day yesterday because it is too hysterical not to share and besides if anyone who lives in my Mom's neighborhood actually reads this blog, it might explain my behavior yesterday around 2:00pm.

You see, a couple months ago our fabulous babysitter Amanda (that's a different Amanda than my BFF. Not that babysitter Amanda couldn't be my BFF it's just that she's not the same person and I didn't want to confuse you.) got in a tiny accident (that was totally not her fault) in our Big Red Beast. Basically, it broke the passenger side mirror and we've been waiting and waiting and stalling to get it fixed.

So yesterday Big Red was in the shop. Since I had a check up OB appointment yesterday as well (where I BARELY passed my 1 hour glucose test...thankyouJesus) I borrowed my parents' truck for the day while awesome babysitter Amanda kept the kids at the house. I'd been driving my parents' truck all over town without one hint of a problem (and apparently without making many left turns).

In fact, it wasn't until I started thinking about how well their truck was driving for having over 213,000 miles on it did the hilarity begin.

I turn off the interstate to head toward their neighborhood when suddenly someone pulls up very closely behind me and begins LAYING on the horn. REALLY honking I'm telling you, without letting up. I check the mirrors only to find that there is NO ONE around me.

I turn down the radio and realize that it is the sound of my own horn I'm hearing pulsing in my ears. Confused, I press on the center of the steering wheel. No dice. HORN STILL A BLAZIN' I tell ya.

I drive another mile or so with the horn never ceasing. Then, I make a right hand turn into my parents' neighborhood. The horn stops.

At this point, I start to chuckle. "Wow. That was funny." I think to myself.

I turn left onto another street.

On goes the horn. Honking without even a hint of a pause.

I smack the horn with my hand and it jolts off for about .0001 second then begins again.

I turn left onto my parents' street.

It continues as I drive all the way down my parents' street and as I turn into their driveway. Horn is STILL honking a single LONG honk. Uncontrollably.

Unable to contain my laughter I burst and my bladder threatens to do the same. I slam on the steering wheel and the horn stops.

I open the truck door to climb out and the horn starts.

I hit the wheel again and the horn stops.

I continue climbing out of the car and the horn starts again. At this point I'm certain that I'm going to pee my pants to I whack the wheel one last time and the horn shuts off. I do the pee-pee dance into my parents' house certain that I will hear the horn the entire time I'm inside.

I go back outside to wait on my Mom who is meeting me there in the next few minutes. I crank up the truck again and the horn begins to wail once more.

I smack the steering wheels and off it goes. Only to blare again a moment or two later.

This continues for the next 5 minutes.

As my Mom climbs into the truck and we drive to retrieve the Big Red Beast I recant to her the last 20 minutes of my life. We both laugh hysterically and the truck remains silent.

Apparently, my step-dad dropped a quarter down into the steering column a while back. When it bumps the wires, the horn honks uncontrollably.

For me, it happened every. single. time I made a left hand turn.

Imagine me, driving into my parents' neighborhood with the horn honking full blast and me inside, laughing uncontrollably and beating the steering wheel like nobody's business.

Yeah, I'm laughing now too. Or at least I hope you are 'cause I don't care who you are, that's funny.

Nothing frustrates me more than car troubles. Why is it that I allow so much anger, frustration and hatred creep into my heart over nothing more than a pile of plastic and metal? Two Friday's ago we dropped our van off at a local auto shop. We knew it needed some serious work because it is continuing to leak coolant and overheat. After keeping our car all day, I called at 5:00pm (closing time, on Friday, remember?) and asked if it was ready to be picked up. The gentleman explained to me the problem and told me it was at least a 6 hour job and that they wouldn't be able fix it that day. I told him I needed the car as it is the only vehicle we have that our entire family can ride in. We went to pick it up and were going to return it the following week.

Our schedules didn't allow us to drop it back off yesterday (Monday). They worked on it all day yesterday (never called me, not once) and when I called at 5:15pm to see if it was ready, they told me that the needed to keep it until the morning. The gentleman assured me it would be done 1st thing this morning.

Elizabeth also had a dentist appointment this morning. So, the plan was for Luke to take her to the dentist (which is literally 10 min from his work) and I would go get the van and meet him there to pick her up, hopefully eliminating the need for him to drive all the way back home, then back to work (roughly 1 hours worth of driving). I called the auto shop at 8:15am, only to be told it would be at least 1 1/2 hours. Great. I took a shower and loaded the twins in the stroller, I was determined to be there promptly at 9:30, hoping my presence would light a fire underneath them.

I left my house a little after 9:00am and walked, yes you read that right, walked the almost 2 miles to the auto shop. We get there just after 9:30. I wait patiently...only to be told it that there was a new problem w/ our car and it would be another 30-45 minutes. Uuuuugggggghhhhhh!!!!!!

Luckily, there is a coffee shop just around the corner. The twins and I head there, hoping to grab a quick snack.

TWO HOURS LATER, I call the auto shop, where I am told that my vehicle is finally ready. In those 2 hours, I got no phone call explaining that it is taking longer than expected, telling me that the job had to be pushed back, nothing. As the twins, Elizabeth (b/c Luke had dropped her off at this point, so he could go to work) are walking from the coffee shop back to the auto shop I am praying that my blood will stop boiling. I am asking God for peace. I know that the owner of the shop is a Christian b/c of previous interactions. I know that I do not need to be rude, but accept this misfortune with grace, showing Christ's love for everyone in my actions.

What I wanted to say was, "This is ridiculous! Can't you see that I have been waiting for this car for almost 36 hours? My family can't go anywhere! I WALKED here w/ my two 2-year olds and you didn't even have the decency to speed things up?"

However, I asked all three kids to thank the man for fixing our car. I knew that this poor guy had lost his teenage son just over a year ago. I heard him talking about his children to other people in the shop, and I knew that the LAST thing he needed was a piece of my mind.

Trust me, I wanted to let him have it, but by there sheer grace of God, I held my tounge. It made me realize that the next time, I may not know the background of the person I'm dealing with . Instead of being so critical, I should accept things for what they are, and try to show Christ's love thru my actions.

You know, I REALLY love God, but sometimes, being His servant is so hard. Now, if I could only erase the anger in my heart I'll be moving in the right direction.