No, no! Don't disagree with me. Humor me...and read on.
After ten years of marriage, my husband confided to me that the dishes in the sink cause him anxiety. I talk to my brother about once a month, if that ~ bad sister.
My kids will tell you all kinds of stories. With a look of glee in his eye, the oldest child will tell you about the time when mommy lost what small amount of cool she had left and hurled a plate across the kitchen. It left an indentation in the wall that was easily patched. No one was hurt. It makes for a good story. Win-win.
So, I have been making an effort to attend a TRX class every Thursday. I went once in March and was literally unable to move for days. Needless to say, I was uber discouraged and didn't go back.
Then, I saw that the Real Housewives of Orange County were doing TRX. This motivated me to go back. I kid you not; yes, I am am that shallow.
So, for the third consecutive week, I went to TRX class. I began speaking with another woman there and we quickly discovered that we are both pastor's wives. Her husband is the senior pastor of a larger church in the area.
She looked very excited to have met me, and she told me that she mentors another pastor's wife in the area and mentioned me joining them sometime. I felt an icy vein of anxiety swirl around my belly.
I hear the word "mentor" and it immediately conjures up visions of crushing disappointments (on her part) and and exhausting amounts of obligatory false enthusiasm to be expressed (on my part.) It sounded exhausting and wholly, unbelievably unnecessary.
Because...I had a preacher's wife mentor and she was a lunatic.
I had to live with her 18 years. She could clean, cook, organize crap, tell people what to do , sing in the choir, DIRECT the choir, play piano WHILE she directed the choir, SING AND DIRECT the choir while SHE played the piano, etc.
Most fascinating to me, she could cook for crowds of hundreds of people because of some obscure cafeteria experience at a large University in the Midwest. One could tell her "We are having chicken and dumplings and chocolate cake for two hundred people. Here is the recipe, which needs a conversion from 12 servings."
And she could convert the recipe, IN HER HEAD, and go buy the ingredients ~ IN BULK.
I actually did this with her once. I was visiting several years ago and this exact scenario happened.
My head would inevitably explode if such demands were placed upon me and I would flee somewhere, preferably out of the country, while two hundred people were wondering where the hell their chicken and dumplings and ~ more importantly~ their chocolate cake were.
We had friends over recently and I stressed out at the Publix meat department dude about how much shrimp I should or should not buy. He probably got home that night, kissed and hugged his wife, thankful he didn't pick a histrionic head case like yours truly to marry.
Or Bethenny Frankel.
Is anyone else watching her? She is just as neurotic as I am. Except she is driven, goal oriented and a kick ass business woman. I'm just neurotic, and a little lazy.
Really, Bethenny Getting Married is eeking up on my ranking of "favorite shows." But nothing can really top Real Housewives of New Jersey this season. And now I have Flipping Out, Rachel Zoe and A NEW Real Housewives of D.C. to look forward to this summer? God is smiling on me. He is.
Anyhoo. Where was I? TRX class. Pastor's wife. Mentoring. Quelle horreure. Disappointment high fives all around. Aching cheeks and dry teeth from excessive smiling forecasted for my future.
Because I am ~ by far ~ the most disappointing pastor's wife you will ever find.
I try not to swear too much, yet fear my two year old is saying "oh, shit," sometimes when she drops her toys.
I don't really do choirs, or circles. I don't volunteer a lot. I can't remember peoples' names a lot of the time and honestly am TERRIFIED of calling someone by the wrong name. I don't organize events, I forgot my secret sister's birthday, forgot the church's only graduation party and yawn through the preacher's sermons.
Yet, it blows my mind that these people seem to like me. If they don't, I suppose I haven't heard. That's okay. I love each and every one of them and don't know how we were so blessed to end up where we are.
I'm trying to look on the bright side, so here it is:
On the bright side, I have NOT disappointed Publix Pharmacy with my ridonkulous number of prescriptions every month.
I didn't disappoint my son, Wesley, this afternoon for lunch because I "let" him eat Ramen Noodles. I told him he had to make them himself ~ because I was on my way to take a nap, which disappointed him a lot. Yet he looked very happy about the Ramen Noodles initially.
I also haven't disappointed these little bugs called earwigs that are taking over my house. I don't know what I am doing to make them very happy and feel at home, but whatever it is, it is going to warrant a follow up call to our pest control company to take those bad boys out.
And to everyone, I hope you do not have a disappointing fourth of July. We are blessed to live in our country. It is disappointing at times ~ at least the leadership is ~ but I am still proud to be an American.