lost the energy--but brought back that lovin' feelin'

Well, I had thought about posting a few days ago, and it would have been a rather mopey post.  It has become harder and harder to get myself all psyched for getting stuff done.  I have finally lost my momentum and am all pooped out.  (And I just now realized what a bizarre and horrible phrase "pooped out" is.  As in "I'm pooped," which I am pretty such I have heard respectable and linguistically conservative people like my parents say during my lifetime.  Does it really mean what it says?!  And how have I been using that phrase off and on throughout my life without ever thinking about the words actually issuing from my lips and the picture they make?!!!  Does anyone else ever say this???!!!  GROSS.  With this long over-due recognition, I herefore banish this phrase in all its forms from my vocabulary and my home.)

Where was I?

Oh, right, talking about being done. (snicker. ; )

Really, the month-long adrenaline rush wore off last week, and it has been so grey and gloomy and cold in the mornings, and I've been all sore and stiff and tired from all the bending and reaching and lifting I've been doing. . . . And my dear Becky took all the kids Thurs. afternoon so I could do a few child-unfriendly projects, like re-staining parts of the hardwood floor that had been worn away, but after a long day of hard work and terrible fumes the floor did not look much better and the fumes lingered overnight, which made me feel like a bad mommy for endangering the health of my family, for such pathetic results. . . . And since my familly arrives in FOUR days, you would think we are setting things in order around here, but NO, we have been making NEW messes while trying to get some necessary things done--like DH is at the moment running new phone cables under the house for our computer modem, because a week ago the old wires went on the fritz, and we have been living with a twenty-five-foot white cord draped over the ceiling beams running from the computer to the only other phone jack in the kitchen, which is not something you want when guests are here, but also not something we had budgeted project time for, and in the meantime half of the living room has been displaced so he has room to work, while the other half was already displaced from a deep cleaning project I started last week. . . . 

So if I had posted on Friday morning as I had planned, I would have been complaining and whining and bemoaning the grey state of my spirit (ok, I guess I just did in that last paragraph ; ).  Friday I wasted much of the day, sitting at the computer much of the day, doing light housework and laundry and stuff like that, but not motivated to work on any of the projects I was still hoping to get done.  But then, late afternoon, I somehow remembered that post I wrote previously, in which my day started out gloomy and slow but then I completely turned it around by choosing to look towards God and get moving.  So, Friday, even thought it was totally late in the day--like 5:00 p.m.--I made myself get up off my duff and just do something.  And once again I was amazed both at how my attitude improved, and how much I got done on the projects list.

This weekend DH and I did a lot. . . and yet, we really could have done a lot more, if we had been full of vigor.  And yet, I am finding in my spirit that instead of being glum about what we did not accomplish, I am ok with what we did.  Like Mary Poppins says, "Well enough is as good as a feast."

It is perfectly fine that I am out of steam.  Eh, I knew we would never get done all the things I would have liked, but it was sure nice to see what we could do.  I am so happy with the things we did get done.  And I have peace about what isn't done.  And I am also very proud of both myself and DH for what we have accomplished, since we have not had this productive of a streak since we first moved in.  Proud of myself because I did lots of things I was dreading, like spending a lot of time up on ladders, and really proud of Dear Husband because he has worked so hard--because he loves me and knows it is important to me.

A loooooooong time ago I wrote about love languages, and how I think I receive love most through words of affirmation and acts of service.  Equally long ago I also wrote about how my marriage was deep in a pit a few years back.  DH and I working so hard this past month on projects has been good for both of us, in so many ways--but the biggest blessing in it for me is that I have felt more loved by my husband than I have felt in years.  (Lots of other factors there too, like us having matured greatly in understanding and wisdom, and being purposeful in our building up of one another--all vital stuff--so this is like the icing on the cake.)

So here I am, surrounded by disorder, facing a week of lots yet to do, and finding myself no longer glum and lethargic, but instead perfectly content with the chaos and necessary slower pace.  Once again, this house manages to be a perfect metaphor for my life, my marriage.  It ain't perfect, it ain't pretty, but it's mine and it's good enough. And sometimes good enough is great.

I'll end with a quotation from another slow and unstimulating but good documentary I was watching during naptimes this week:
 
“It’s okay to head out for ‘wonderful,’ but on your way to ‘wonderful’ you’re gonna have to pass through ‘alright.’ And when you get to ‘alright’ take a good look around and get used to it cause that may be as far as you’re gonna go.”--Bill Withers, in Still Bill