happy 39th birthday...and good riddance!

 

Y'all know I love my birthdays, right?

They're like Christmas. But just for me. And also no snow, because, June.

During my single years, they were a chance to throw an epic party with local bands and yummy cake, and to surround myself with the much needed support of family and friends and pat myself on the back for getting through another year.

Since being married to Mr. Perfect, I can honestly say every day feels something like a birthday. Although last year, my birthday started with a trip to the social security office, then the DMV--totaling nearly six hours, ending with no new drivers license (my five forms of ID weren't enough), and where I was treated to standing in line behind the shoeless homeless man drinking ranch dressing straight from the bottle. The day ended with a surprise dinner at Disneyland, though, thanks to a friend who works at the Blue Bayou restaurant at Pirates of the Caribbean...so, totally happy ending :)

I'm hoping for a happy ending from this year, too. Because, let me tell you--this decade, this year, this month, this week, and especially this day are kicking my patootie. Mixed in with all that daily birthday-esque happiness is some tough, tough stuff.

This morning, I woke up with two huge zits on my chin, a continuous reminder of the mega-stress we've been under the last month with custody court and all that entails. Also, one of the kids left the interior light on in the car (our only car) despite our hundred reminders not to do so...which left us with a dead battery 30 minutes before (the not homeschooled) kids needed to be to school. Also, we were out of milk and bread and a lunch needed made.

Luckily, a neighbor was up and around at 6:30 am, we got the jump, got the food, got the kids to school on time, with lunch.

I then put in a load of laundry...and the washing machine leaked all over the floor. Torn seal. $400 to repair.

Then, the dentist called. Two of the boys have cavities that need filled and one needs sealants re-applied. The total cost, even with insurance? $1,205.60. And did I mention two also need orthodontic expanders?

So, while I am beating my head against the wall trying to figure out where I am going to come up with an extra $400 to replace the washer seal and $1,205.60 to keep my kids teeth from rotting out when I currently have $11 in my account,  I get a call from Chase Bank.

They just wanted to let me know, on this the day before my birthday, with the broken car and the broken washing machine and the broken teeth and the child yelling from the living room that his shoes are too small...that I owe them $46,000. You know--from the second mortgage attached to my dream home that the short sale fell through on last year due to liens my ex-husbands creditors put on it, and then ended up in foreclosure, and which I have been diligently trying to repair my credit from for the last year only to find out that it barely hit my credit last month and I still have 3-7 years in front of me before I can even THINK about owning a home again, let alone even renting something better than where we're at, or taking out a loan for a second non-broken car...

I explained to dear Chase Bank that I was told on multiple occasions by multiple people (including their own) that the second mortgage couldn't be separated from the first, which was why the home had to be short sold in the first place, and that I was told the second mortgage would be covered in the foreclosure. When they explained this was not so but that I could "reduce the amount I owed" I told them to reduce it to zero and then call me, because I was already financially wasted.


And then I went upstairs and hugged my Mr. Perfect whose brilliance helped create a children's TV show that generates $15-20 million a year--although we don't get a dime of it (thanks, LLC), and rather than be angry or discouraged, he still works long, creatively exhausting hours every day to provide for our family and his ex-wife, still smiles and laughs and loves us all with all his heart, and is still completely...perfect.

Following this, I cried and felt sorry for our stinky situation then ate six Nutella cookies and got a tummy ache.

As I look back on my 30's all peppered with death and declining health and confused kids and no sleep and broken hearts and broken bones and broken appliances and broken vehicles and financial burdens of an unparalleled nature despite our being very educated and responsible folks and wanting nothing else than to not have to ask any more people for help ever but to provide it, I can't help but say GOOD RIDDANCE!

Now, lest I sound ungrateful for all the amazing things that DID happen in my 30's--all those beautiful daily blessings centered around my faith, children, marriage, nature, and writing--I can only say the gratitude was and is hard won amidst a lot of struggle. It is a peace that comes despite the storms around us. The very most difficult thing being doing all we know is right, following the Spirit, allowing God to fight our battles, being the responsible ones, giving tirelessly in service to our family, church, and community, and still ending up being the metaphorical (and sometimes literal) punching bags. We have known rejection from those who should have no cause to reject us. Amassed unnecessary penalties and undue criticism to the point that even stupid chin zits feel a cursing from the Lord.

I am a grateful soul through and through but I am also tired and burdened and clueless how to get myself or my family out of this mess...

Though, my gift to myself, on this eve of my 39th birthday, is to know that I don't have to know how to.  Not right now. For now, my trust is what God is requiring. It doesn't make sense to me because I can't see the whole picture the way He can--how all these trials can be consecrated not only for my benefit but for the benefit of our children, and even their children. That continued, sweet peace I feel when I'm not in the midst of crying cookie binges, is all I need to be assured we ARE doing the right things.

If everything needs cleared away to lead us to where we need to be, who are we to stand in the way? If we can only be truly Christ-like by passing below it all in a way that is meager compared to His sacrifice--why would we not pass? If all we have is one answer to our volumes of questions, how can it not be enough to know it must be the only answer we need right now?

Tomorrow I will wake and start to live the last year of this unparalleled decade in my life and I can choose to live it in a state of bitter surrender...or I can keep rising up and fighting the battle. I can sit it out or I can march in the ranks of some of the best people I know who choose to believe in ultimate victory, even when the enemy is raging. I can close off my understanding and feel I am being punished, or I can look at this as a time to learn, to continue in obedience, and be refined.

As long as I get in a long run and a big piece of cake, I think I can hang in another year. And I'll still love my birthdays, y'all.        I will.