Sunday, December 26th 2010
In Which I Try Not to Get Defensive, But Totally Do Anyway, Who Are We Kidding

I hope you’re all warm and not snowed in or cold at all or inconvenienced by awful weather. Or stuck with relatives you’d rather not be stuck with. Or, you know, anything. But if you are adversely weather affected, I’d like to somehow give you all thick socks, a snuggie, a can of de-icer, and hot chocolate.  (The good kind.)

I’m good here. No snow, no ice.

Just a very blessed Christmas with sweet family.

It started with a bang in the middle of the night. I’d been very stressed by the time I went to bed on Christmas Eve. No reason to be. I’d gone to a lovely candlelight church service and sat between little boys (not my own) and failed to resist the temptation to drip hot wax on my hands.  (God knows I’ve done this at every candlelight Christmas service I can remember, and He’s good with it.)

At two or three in the morning I woke up aware of three things. 1)  There was a REALLY loud sound 2) My left hand was in MUCH pain and 3) I had a distinctly triumphant feeling, as if I’d just successfully won some sort of difficult battle.

But really, I’d just had a bad dream and punched the wooden headboard very hard. My knuckles have little bruises and broken skin and my hand has throbbed with an achiness ever since. I lay there in the dark and held my left hand in my right and tried to remember my dream. I couldn’t. I wondered if I’d broken anything, or if my numb knuckles were bleeding on the sheets. But I didn’t check. Mike didn’t wake up, although he did say the next day that it would have hurt me less if I’d punched him instead. True. Will have to remember this. Chivalry.

Although once, many years ago, I woke up and my right hand was stinging and burning as if I’d just slapped something as hard as I could. And I had. I’d somehow sat up and slapped Mike’s butt with a great deal of force. He screamed, levitated and shouted, “WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?”  And all his screaming scared me wide awake and I said, “What?? What happened because my hand REALLY HURTS.”

And then, because we were both completely confused as to what had happened, since we’d both been asleep and all, we turned on the light and looked. And Mike had a bright red handprint right on his butt cheek that was exactly the same size as my hand. (He was REAL glad he’d been asleep on his stomach at the time.)   It was really hard to go back to sleep because I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s hard to express any genuine sympathy or remorse (or fall asleep) when laughing. Have you ever noticed that?

Anyway. I’m tired. I hope tonight is uneventful. I stayed at my mom’s last night and was a bit afraid I’d hurt something or someone again. (Very Incredible Hulk of me.)  Everything was fine. These things must only happen every ten years or so. I don’t know.

I’m relieved Christmas is over. It’s not that I get all wrapped up in the commercial side of it and lose all my Christian girl perspective – although I would understand if you thought that based on the things i write. It’s that here I tend to write about the shallow stuff and have always considered my faith to be more of a private, constant conversation between God and me that I almost never discuss with anyone. It’s this sacred, precious part of who I am and I just don’t share that side well. Never have.

I mention it, because someone wondered, and it’s a valid point. No offense taken. Really. I’m not the site you go to for a devotional, and never will be. In some ways, I’m just too private for that. Or too me. Or too something, and if you think I’m lost and misguided and faithless because of the things I fail to write about… that’s okay. I’m not. I’m all right. But I’m not the sort to defend and convince, just because someone doesn’t get me. I’d rather you think whatever you want, rather than go to the trouble of trying to change anyone’s mind.

There won’t be a change here, or fewer mentions of shoes. It just wouldn’t be me. A couple weeks ago I wore heels that were too high. They were cute, but I’m still paying for this. They hurt my knee (still!) and I felt like a fraud and couldn’t wait to take them off – as if that extra height were some odd lie and I needed to explain that I wasn’t really that tall.  Anyway. That was a shoe analogy. I don’t like pretending to be things I’m not, and those darling boots were not worth it. Neither is trying to write what some want to read when it isn’t terribly genuine. Sorta shallow is fine, and fake is not.

I’m glad Christmas is over and I happen to know God understands this about me. It’s okay.

Stay warm, y’all. Snuggle someone you love and if you still get cold, you can always take my mom’s advice and go wash a sinkful of dishes. Go ahead. It’d make her day. She loves it when someone falls for that.


4 Comments on “In Which I Try Not to Get Defensive, But Totally Do Anyway, Who Are We Kidding”

December 27th, 2010
10:08 pm

I do funny things in my sleep too. Once was having a dream about a tug-of-war with a friend over a video (weird in and of itself), and woke up to pulling the pillow out from underneath my sweetie’s head. What a wake up call. The slap on the behind is way funnier though.I can’t quit giggling.

December 28th, 2010
10:07 pm

Melissa, it must have been a video of…. the Shasta guy. now it makes sense!
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Annie Joy
December 29th, 2010
2:34 pm

I understand (about the relief). Completely. Mine takes a different form — I get sick. Not just after Christmas (but usually, including Christmas), but other events also. Not the same thing, I know — but related, I think. So you have just given me my next post. Love, Annie
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January 9th, 2011
9:44 pm

2 things:

I’m the same way regarding religion and my faith. I understand completely.

2) That thing about you slapping Mike’s butt actually had me laughing out loud. Not just LOL but real life laughing out loud. :)

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