My dearest husband had to attend a meeting several hours away from home today, one that will keep him detained from the farm until bedtime. As he was preparing to leave, he was busy trying to procure supplies for some sort of project that would go on in his absence. Meanwhile, I am trying to organize my children to begin their schoolday with hopes of accomplishing much work since we spent a good portion of the day yesterday deep cleaning in attempts to clean out whatever is causing widespread allergy attacks in the family.
As John is running out the door, he tells me he needs me to run to town to get the supplies for him. O.K., I’d rather be home working with my children, but Shabbona is only 7 miles to the east. I get all three started on their schoolwork with the promise that I’ll be home soon. John wants me to leave immediately, but the baby is still in her p.j.’s…what to do? Do I leave her home with her siblings or do I take her as is? In the end I decided the children would accomplish more if she weren’t there to distract them and Shabbona is a small town (pop.<1000), so I figured I could get by with it.
I was about half-way home from this errand when I heard “Ode to Joy” playing from somewhere deep inside my purse. It was my cell phone ringing. John was calling to let me know he needed me to pick up some electrical wire in Waterman. (7-10 miles east of Shabbona). I quickly called the children to let them know I would be a little delayed and turned the van around for the second errand.
As the van approached the Waterman town limits, my cell phone rang again. (Oh how did we ever farm without them?) The shop in Waterman didn’t have the wire he needed, would I mind going to Farm & Fleet in DeKalb to pick it up? Sigh. What to do? I’m already 20 minutes drive from my children who I just want to do math with. DeKalb is an additional 20 minutes away from home. Shabbona and Waterman are both small towns, but DeKalb is much larger (not a big city, mind you, but a population center for our area). The time is quickly approaching 10:00 a.m. and Emma is still barefooted in her pajamas with a coat quickly thrown over her. What would people think? I told him I’d do it, but that we’d be lucky if we weren’t hotlined by a well-meaning DCFS worker at the sight of our disheveled daughter. In the end, I didn’t end up leaving DeKalb until around noon, my daughter is still in her pajamas, and the workers at F&F were more interested in making a sizable sale than what my baby looked like.
Running for parts is part and parcel of being married to a farmer. It was part of the deal when I signed the marriage liscence almost 15 years ago. It was a good deal, well worth any amount of hastle to be John’s wife.
I vaguely remember sometime before I left this morning warning my eldest son about pride in his life. “Pride is a sin. If you won’t deal with it in your life, God will do it for you.” The words came back to convict me. I’m glad that this time, the Lord was gentle with me and the consequences were nothing more than a little self-imposed embarrassment.