I stopped by one of my favorite Mexican places this morning. A cute little joint that is open for breakfast. I needed to refuel after my workout at the gym and it wasn’t far from the home repair store I had to visit next. After ordering a plate of cheese enchiladas and chicken fajitas, I headed for the dining area to pick a table. What I saw next stopped me in my tracks and left me with a tingling feeling in my chest. Two lanky young men in army fatigues were at a nearby table, polishing off breakfast.
My friend that I love so much he calls me Sis and I call him Brother, had just deployed for parts unknown and seeing those young men in army green gave me quite a shock. I immediately began to sob, sat down at the table next to them, ripped off my sunglasses, buried my face in my hands and let the tears come. Love, fear, separation and longing rolled off my cheeks in warm salty tears. “Ask them to help you” came the warm loving thought in my mind that I knew was Himself talking to my heart. I pressed a napkin to my eyes and swallowed. “Excuse me, Sir. Can you help me please?”. They turned and looked at me calmly waiting until I regained my composure enough to speak. The one nearest to me, a lanky blonde with an honest Kansas farm boy face, said “Yes ma’am?” I took a deep breath. “Seeing you two is quite a shock. My brother just deployed from Germany to parts unknown. I saw him last before they moved to Germany. I don’t know where he is, I can’t know. And I didn’t get to hug him goodbye when he deployed, since he deployed from Germany. Would you mind? Could I give you a hug?”
He immediately stood to his feet and held out his arms. I embraced him, taking in his cologne I didn’t recognize and aware that my cheek that I pressed against his neck was wet with tears. At arms length again, I held his gaze for just a moment. “Thank you. I feel better now.” “You’re welcome, ma’am. And good luck to your brother.”
They left immediately. As they walked outside the restaurant, I saw through the window as they climbed into an enormous black dually truck-a total wildatheartmobile. I smiled at this and sighed. I did feel better. Peace replaced the shock and grief in my chest and I turned my attention toward breakfast.
I was not hungry, per se. But I knew I had to eat right after a workout. I managed to eat about one third of the Tex Mex delight the smiling olive skinned cooks had prepared for me. After one last spoonful of salsa verde and rice, I knew I couldn’t eat another bite.
And then I realized what a little golden moment this was for me-the woman who used to eat her feelings. Instead of overeating in an addictive unhealthy attempt to squash my emotions, I had let the tears come, been humble and vulnerable enough to ask for help and receive it, and then found to my grateful delight that food didn’t have an emotional hold on me anymore. It was just fuel. Thank God.-Shula
PS Please pray for Michael and Angela
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Love Her
The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.-Theodore Hesburgh
I searched all over the web looking for a picture that would illustrate this beautiful truth and found it right there in my community list, on Michael and Angela's blog. Michael loves his four children, no doubt, and he loves their mother too. VERY much.
Isn't this a powerful image?
(I've heard this quote for years and never knew who said it first. Kind thanks to CaMarriage who posted this quote on Twitter. )
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Legacy of Love
Delighted Husband and I spent this afternoon in the garage sorting through belongings from our attic that were damaged during Hurricane Ike. We've been married for nearly 12 years and some stuff was mine before we were married. There's a lot of stuff!
I want to mention first that this is some of the stinky stuff in the attic mentioned here. I don't do it perfectly, but I like to keep things organized, so nearly all of our stuff in the attic was stored in cardboard banker boxes. Those banker boxes acted like sponges, soaking up all the water in the attic when the roof leaked during the hurricane. The wet cardboard was breaking down deteriorating in the heat and smelled awful! But now the cardboard had dried and it was time to sort through them and be done with it.
Some things were ruined and had to be claimed.
Some things were—to my great delight—salvageable.
I want to tell you about one of those things.
Two of the many boxes were things from my single life and girlhood that I had kept and brought into marriage. One box was full of books and journals from the years when I first began my healing journey. Relics of the heart. This box-out of all the damaged boxes-the contents of this box were completely unharmed. I was so glad to see this, and I made a note on the index card which book titles were in there in case anyone ever needed it and I could give it away. There was plenty of work to do, so I quickly folded together a nice clean banker box and began to move the books and journals into their new home.
Then I saw it: A program from the funeral of a man who loved me and mentored me for many years when I was a teen and single adult. I'll call him Paul. Such joy filled my heart and tears filled my eyes. I stood there in my garage, wiping tears, and read the whole article. This man and his dear wife spent their lives loving God and loving people.
They loved me wholeheartedly during the early years of my recovery. They believed me when I told them about my sexual abuse, and they loved me without condition. I don't know quite how to describe it, but there was a gentleness about this man. He saw me. When he looked at me, he really saw me. As a young woman, this was so special to me. In a world full of pain and abuse and inappropriate flirting, this man looked at me with love and fatherly affection. He affirmed me as a writer when I was first finding my wings and beginning my career. He took me seriously. When I talked to them about my questions and trials as I was just starting my corporate career, they really listened. Paul had a wide varied career and he coached me on the people dynamics I encountered on my job. I was so young! So naive yet talented and I found the unspoken culture of corporate America confusing. He took me under his wing and coached me about workplace dynamics and my career goals.
Paul and his wife were always very affectionate with each other. I remember how special and good I felt inside when I would be over at their house for dinner and he and his wife would stand embracing and smiling right there in the living room. Their devotion and affection for each other was a breath of pure air in a season of my life where I was processing all the pain from my past sexual abuse. I would look at Paul and his wife standing in their living room, smiling and talking with their arms around each other, and I would think, "Oh my God. All is right with the world. This is the way it should be."
Years later, I realize that Paul was one of the first people to speak the truth into my life that the sexual and the spiritual were equally important and deserved to be balanced in a healthy life. We both loved to read, and we shared many hours talking about novels and what they spoke to us. We had discussed big tomes like Herman Wouk's The Winds of War, the family legacy and the horror of the Second World War. I remember he asked me what else I had been reading, and embarrassed, I mumbled, "Oh just some other dumb stuff, a Danielle Steel novel." I was sure he would see that as some unspiritual waste of time or worse a shameful detour for a Christian young woman. But you know what he said? Paul looked me straight in the eye and said, "Well, Shula, romance is an important part of life. Never forget that. Life would be pretty dull without romance, and if you want to read about it and let God stir up the desires of your heart for a good man and a good marriage, then you go right ahead. Okay, so what else you been reading?" and the conversation went on, calm as could be. We went on to talk about James Michener's Covenant next, and the staggering issue of South Africa's racial unrest.
I kept up with the conversation, but inside my jaw was dropped in shocked delight. Up until that point in my life, sex and any kind of boy/girl connection had been icky, and toxic and filled with pain. In that one single conversation, I learned that romance and marital love, even the mushy sexy kissy stuff was an important part of life and that was okay for me to want to be married. Of course, I still felt I was exempt from that sort of thing; Having been abused I felt like I was damaged freight. But that one conversation gave me a spark and I began daring to hope. I took all my questions and longings to my counseling sessions with my therapist, but that conversation with Paul was a turning point. A catalyst.
Better yet, the way Paul calmly spoke of romance with the same level of respect he showed the topic of racism or genocide told me that romantic love really mattered. It wasn't just meaningless fluff, it mattered. Romance was a legitimate issue.
I smile as I conclude this article, and there are happy tears in my eyes. Because I know that Paul would be so proud of me, of the redemption stories I am writing and of this life of love I have built with Delighted Husband. I so so WISH Paul had gotten the chance to meet my beloved Delighted Husband. They never met. My first date with Delighted Husband was the night of Paul's funeral. It was a new season in my life, and while the two men never met, I brought my changed and healing heart into my marriage.
What a legacy of love!
-SW
I want to mention first that this is some of the stinky stuff in the attic mentioned here. I don't do it perfectly, but I like to keep things organized, so nearly all of our stuff in the attic was stored in cardboard banker boxes. Those banker boxes acted like sponges, soaking up all the water in the attic when the roof leaked during the hurricane. The wet cardboard was breaking down deteriorating in the heat and smelled awful! But now the cardboard had dried and it was time to sort through them and be done with it.
Some things were ruined and had to be claimed.
Some things were—to my great delight—salvageable.
I want to tell you about one of those things.
Two of the many boxes were things from my single life and girlhood that I had kept and brought into marriage. One box was full of books and journals from the years when I first began my healing journey. Relics of the heart. This box-out of all the damaged boxes-the contents of this box were completely unharmed. I was so glad to see this, and I made a note on the index card which book titles were in there in case anyone ever needed it and I could give it away. There was plenty of work to do, so I quickly folded together a nice clean banker box and began to move the books and journals into their new home.
Then I saw it: A program from the funeral of a man who loved me and mentored me for many years when I was a teen and single adult. I'll call him Paul. Such joy filled my heart and tears filled my eyes. I stood there in my garage, wiping tears, and read the whole article. This man and his dear wife spent their lives loving God and loving people.
They loved me wholeheartedly during the early years of my recovery. They believed me when I told them about my sexual abuse, and they loved me without condition. I don't know quite how to describe it, but there was a gentleness about this man. He saw me. When he looked at me, he really saw me. As a young woman, this was so special to me. In a world full of pain and abuse and inappropriate flirting, this man looked at me with love and fatherly affection. He affirmed me as a writer when I was first finding my wings and beginning my career. He took me seriously. When I talked to them about my questions and trials as I was just starting my corporate career, they really listened. Paul had a wide varied career and he coached me on the people dynamics I encountered on my job. I was so young! So naive yet talented and I found the unspoken culture of corporate America confusing. He took me under his wing and coached me about workplace dynamics and my career goals.
Paul and his wife were always very affectionate with each other. I remember how special and good I felt inside when I would be over at their house for dinner and he and his wife would stand embracing and smiling right there in the living room. Their devotion and affection for each other was a breath of pure air in a season of my life where I was processing all the pain from my past sexual abuse. I would look at Paul and his wife standing in their living room, smiling and talking with their arms around each other, and I would think, "Oh my God. All is right with the world. This is the way it should be."
Years later, I realize that Paul was one of the first people to speak the truth into my life that the sexual and the spiritual were equally important and deserved to be balanced in a healthy life. We both loved to read, and we shared many hours talking about novels and what they spoke to us. We had discussed big tomes like Herman Wouk's The Winds of War, the family legacy and the horror of the Second World War. I remember he asked me what else I had been reading, and embarrassed, I mumbled, "Oh just some other dumb stuff, a Danielle Steel novel." I was sure he would see that as some unspiritual waste of time or worse a shameful detour for a Christian young woman. But you know what he said? Paul looked me straight in the eye and said, "Well, Shula, romance is an important part of life. Never forget that. Life would be pretty dull without romance, and if you want to read about it and let God stir up the desires of your heart for a good man and a good marriage, then you go right ahead. Okay, so what else you been reading?" and the conversation went on, calm as could be. We went on to talk about James Michener's Covenant next, and the staggering issue of South Africa's racial unrest.
I kept up with the conversation, but inside my jaw was dropped in shocked delight. Up until that point in my life, sex and any kind of boy/girl connection had been icky, and toxic and filled with pain. In that one single conversation, I learned that romance and marital love, even the mushy sexy kissy stuff was an important part of life and that was okay for me to want to be married. Of course, I still felt I was exempt from that sort of thing; Having been abused I felt like I was damaged freight. But that one conversation gave me a spark and I began daring to hope. I took all my questions and longings to my counseling sessions with my therapist, but that conversation with Paul was a turning point. A catalyst.
Better yet, the way Paul calmly spoke of romance with the same level of respect he showed the topic of racism or genocide told me that romantic love really mattered. It wasn't just meaningless fluff, it mattered. Romance was a legitimate issue.
I smile as I conclude this article, and there are happy tears in my eyes. Because I know that Paul would be so proud of me, of the redemption stories I am writing and of this life of love I have built with Delighted Husband. I so so WISH Paul had gotten the chance to meet my beloved Delighted Husband. They never met. My first date with Delighted Husband was the night of Paul's funeral. It was a new season in my life, and while the two men never met, I brought my changed and healing heart into my marriage.
What a legacy of love!
-SW
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Simple Pleasures
It is Sunday evening and our hair is still damp from swimming. We sit crosslegged on the beach towels spread out in front of the TV in the gameroom watching the Olympics. We're drinking cokes and nibbling on chips and gourmet salsa take out from one of my favorite TexMex restaurants. (Who can pick just one?) We're only nibbling because we already had our meal...cheese quesadillas bursting with savory smoky portabella mushrooms.
We are relaxed and happy all the way down in our souls.
I am so deeply grateful.
I love my family.
We are relaxed and happy all the way down in our souls.
I am so deeply grateful.
I love my family.
Friday, August 1, 2008
The quickest way to a woman's heart
One night this summer, Delighted Husband and I were tired and achy after taking the kids on a 4 mile hike. We very much wanted to be together but we had to laugh at ourselves laying still and holding hands and groaning with pain. "What a hot couple we are" as we laughed at ourselves. We were still naked and smiling at each other so that was a start. Delighted Husband has access to all these cool overseas radio stations on his phone, so he was scrolling through some stations and he found a really great classical station broadcasting from London. The classical music was beautiful and rich and still and didn't require us to move. (you know what I mean by that. some music just makes you want to dance. you just try to be still while listening to Ladysmith Black Mambazo!)
We were cuddling and talking about the children. We had planned to have a shagfest much earlier in the evening, but something the DC said set off a little beep beep beep in my heart letting me know they needed some quality time and connection with their dad and me. I knew instinctively that the best way to get them to connect verbally was to get them away from any and all electronic conveniences so I drove us all to one of our favorite nature trails. There's nothing like a long trail with nothing but the sound of wind whispering in the trees to get a kid to talking. Sweating helps too. Something about physical labor gets you talking honest and from the heart, and we were hiking at a steady clip!
I hung back for a while, watching my husband interact with the children. God, I love that man. I wasn't eavesdropping exactly, but I think for a while they forgot I was there.
It was this memory that came to mind as I cuddled with Delighted Husband listening to Rachmaninoff that night. I told him, as I have told him a thousand times, that seeing him share from his heart with the children, offering him manly heart in a fatherly way I could never imitate just sets off a little joy alarm deep inside my body. Every cell in my body says, "Girl! This is the one! Get this man to get you pregnant asap!" I told him and we laughed gently. My body can no longer get pregnant. But apparently places in my heart and my loins never got the memo, cause they keep on tryin!
I rolled over on top of him and he grinned hello. And after just a few seconds of fondling, I was aroused and ready to move. The soft candlelight on the dresser cast a lovely shadow of my hips as I moved over him gently. As passion is known to do, momentum picked up. Orgasmic steam built up and blew. And I rolled over collapsing in an exhausted tangle of limbs. Good man that he is, he moved enough for the both of us for his turn and came home to me quickly. We both submerged into sleep and next thing we knew the alarm clock was ringing.
Apparently one of the quickest ways to a woman's heart is her children. And definitely the quickest way to my loins is my heart! ;)
He knows all the shortcuts, my Delighted Husband.
We were cuddling and talking about the children. We had planned to have a shagfest much earlier in the evening, but something the DC said set off a little beep beep beep in my heart letting me know they needed some quality time and connection with their dad and me. I knew instinctively that the best way to get them to connect verbally was to get them away from any and all electronic conveniences so I drove us all to one of our favorite nature trails. There's nothing like a long trail with nothing but the sound of wind whispering in the trees to get a kid to talking. Sweating helps too. Something about physical labor gets you talking honest and from the heart, and we were hiking at a steady clip!
I hung back for a while, watching my husband interact with the children. God, I love that man. I wasn't eavesdropping exactly, but I think for a while they forgot I was there.
It was this memory that came to mind as I cuddled with Delighted Husband listening to Rachmaninoff that night. I told him, as I have told him a thousand times, that seeing him share from his heart with the children, offering him manly heart in a fatherly way I could never imitate just sets off a little joy alarm deep inside my body. Every cell in my body says, "Girl! This is the one! Get this man to get you pregnant asap!" I told him and we laughed gently. My body can no longer get pregnant. But apparently places in my heart and my loins never got the memo, cause they keep on tryin!
I rolled over on top of him and he grinned hello. And after just a few seconds of fondling, I was aroused and ready to move. The soft candlelight on the dresser cast a lovely shadow of my hips as I moved over him gently. As passion is known to do, momentum picked up. Orgasmic steam built up and blew. And I rolled over collapsing in an exhausted tangle of limbs. Good man that he is, he moved enough for the both of us for his turn and came home to me quickly. We both submerged into sleep and next thing we knew the alarm clock was ringing.
Apparently one of the quickest ways to a woman's heart is her children. And definitely the quickest way to my loins is my heart! ;)
He knows all the shortcuts, my Delighted Husband.
Friday, June 27, 2008
SW rants
Oh my God.
I cannot believe I did this.
Do yall ever have this thing where you get around your mother and you just revert to a nine year old and say "yes" when inside you are screaming "no".
I had a hard week at work.
Hard.
I wanted to get geared up to think/have/do sex this weekend.
So right after work, I went to the salon and got all dolled up. It was so good for my self esteem. The whole scalp massage, getting beautified thing was just wonderful. I put on a pretty dress, touched up my makeup and generally looked like a million bucks. I felt so gorgeous when I got home that I blogged about it. I have a half finished blog post saved in my drafts.
Why did I not finish the post and post it?
Well, I'm so glad you asked.
I cut my post short which I truly ache whenever I have to do it, because for me, when I have this beautiful moment and I write about it, I get to keep it forever. Oh and ya'll get to read it too.
So I cut my writing short. Stop mid sentence because. A week ago, I arranged for Beloved Child to go to Grandma's. I arranged for Grandma to pick up Beloved Child Friday night at 8 so Delighted Husband and I could have the evening alone together. Grandma is late. I call grandma and find that she is running late. Delighted Husband is starving. We were supposed to eat as a family before Grandma arrived but I am late from the salon since they gave me the royal treatment and I felt like a million bucks, but it was too late for dinner before Grandma.
So I call Grandma and wangle a way for us to hand off Beloved Child in time to have dinner as a couple. We agree to start driving toward Grandma and meet at a restaurant. I kiss Beloved Child and put his backpack in Grandma's car. Then Delighted Husband and I walk toward our favorite burger joint and Grandma says, "How about Beloved Child eat with y'all now and I just stay and keep you company?"
And what do I say?
Like an idiot, I say "yes".
OH WHY OH WHY DO I DO THIS SOMETIMES?
It's like Pavlov's dogs! I go into Obey Mother Mode.
With genuine friendly loving interest, Mom asks about my job.
I answer her questions.
Which means I spend the entire evening tallking about the job that I went to the salon to leave behind.
I feel increasing anxiety but I cannot pin it down.
Delighted Husband is now a bystander in my conversation with my mom.
THIS IS A REAL PROBLEM.
Eating dinner out is foreplay.
Pure and simple.
It works like this.
I get dolled up. It makes me feel good inside. I start to "own it". I start to connect with myself as a woman for who I am not as an employee who is valued only for what she can do. I start to feel gorgeous and womanly and beautiful.
Thus begins an entire tennis match of nonverbal flirting, all throughout the meal.
I think to myself, "I am so hot and you are so hot and I cannot wait until your hotness and my hotness collide."
and I make bedroom eyes at him.
and he makes bedroom eyes at me.
Waiters sense what is going on and begin to flirt with me in front of him.
All very innocent and appropriate. No hotel keys are passed on the table. But I get extra free drinks or special desserts or whatever because the waiter can feel the heat between Delighted Husband and I and they stand next to the fire and warm themselves.
All this happens nonverbally while Beloved Child talks about Astros or Nintendo or whatever.
Two conversations happening at once.
God, Delighted Husband is talented!
To Beloved Child he says, "Why yes, Lance Berkman did blah blah blah at the blah blah ballpark new record something something."
To me with his eyes only, he says, "I am going to tear your clothes off of you when we get home but first let me just enjoy looking at them."
Much eye contact and surreptitious lip licking takes place at our table.
It's hot.
and THAT is what was supposed to happen tonight.
But nooooooooo..... I went into obedient little girl mode. and ruined it all.
My Mom did nothing wrong. She didn't disrespect my boundaries.
I just didn't have any.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I'm so angry at myself!
And when I'm angry at myself in close proximity to Delighted Husband, it sounds like I'm angry at him. But I'm not. I'm angry AT myself NEAR him. But who wants to fuck an angry woman?
Sigh.
Y'all wanna hear the lovely beauty salon post anyway?
I cannot believe I did this.
Do yall ever have this thing where you get around your mother and you just revert to a nine year old and say "yes" when inside you are screaming "no".
I had a hard week at work.
Hard.
I wanted to get geared up to think/have/do sex this weekend.
So right after work, I went to the salon and got all dolled up. It was so good for my self esteem. The whole scalp massage, getting beautified thing was just wonderful. I put on a pretty dress, touched up my makeup and generally looked like a million bucks. I felt so gorgeous when I got home that I blogged about it. I have a half finished blog post saved in my drafts.
Why did I not finish the post and post it?
Well, I'm so glad you asked.
I cut my post short which I truly ache whenever I have to do it, because for me, when I have this beautiful moment and I write about it, I get to keep it forever. Oh and ya'll get to read it too.
So I cut my writing short. Stop mid sentence because. A week ago, I arranged for Beloved Child to go to Grandma's. I arranged for Grandma to pick up Beloved Child Friday night at 8 so Delighted Husband and I could have the evening alone together. Grandma is late. I call grandma and find that she is running late. Delighted Husband is starving. We were supposed to eat as a family before Grandma arrived but I am late from the salon since they gave me the royal treatment and I felt like a million bucks, but it was too late for dinner before Grandma.
So I call Grandma and wangle a way for us to hand off Beloved Child in time to have dinner as a couple. We agree to start driving toward Grandma and meet at a restaurant. I kiss Beloved Child and put his backpack in Grandma's car. Then Delighted Husband and I walk toward our favorite burger joint and Grandma says, "How about Beloved Child eat with y'all now and I just stay and keep you company?"
And what do I say?
Like an idiot, I say "yes".
OH WHY OH WHY DO I DO THIS SOMETIMES?
It's like Pavlov's dogs! I go into Obey Mother Mode.
With genuine friendly loving interest, Mom asks about my job.
I answer her questions.
Which means I spend the entire evening tallking about the job that I went to the salon to leave behind.
I feel increasing anxiety but I cannot pin it down.
Delighted Husband is now a bystander in my conversation with my mom.
THIS IS A REAL PROBLEM.
Eating dinner out is foreplay.
Pure and simple.
It works like this.
I get dolled up. It makes me feel good inside. I start to "own it". I start to connect with myself as a woman for who I am not as an employee who is valued only for what she can do. I start to feel gorgeous and womanly and beautiful.
Thus begins an entire tennis match of nonverbal flirting, all throughout the meal.
I think to myself, "I am so hot and you are so hot and I cannot wait until your hotness and my hotness collide."
and I make bedroom eyes at him.
and he makes bedroom eyes at me.
Waiters sense what is going on and begin to flirt with me in front of him.
All very innocent and appropriate. No hotel keys are passed on the table. But I get extra free drinks or special desserts or whatever because the waiter can feel the heat between Delighted Husband and I and they stand next to the fire and warm themselves.
All this happens nonverbally while Beloved Child talks about Astros or Nintendo or whatever.
Two conversations happening at once.
God, Delighted Husband is talented!
To Beloved Child he says, "Why yes, Lance Berkman did blah blah blah at the blah blah ballpark new record something something."
To me with his eyes only, he says, "I am going to tear your clothes off of you when we get home but first let me just enjoy looking at them."
Much eye contact and surreptitious lip licking takes place at our table.
It's hot.
and THAT is what was supposed to happen tonight.
But nooooooooo..... I went into obedient little girl mode. and ruined it all.
My Mom did nothing wrong. She didn't disrespect my boundaries.
I just didn't have any.
OHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I'm so angry at myself!
And when I'm angry at myself in close proximity to Delighted Husband, it sounds like I'm angry at him. But I'm not. I'm angry AT myself NEAR him. But who wants to fuck an angry woman?
Sigh.
Y'all wanna hear the lovely beauty salon post anyway?
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Recreation=Re-Creation (the healing do-over)
Oh! I feel all better today. And I want to tell you why, and how God did it, and how we helped. Because I think knowing this will help a lot of people.
The last week was kind of a blur. All of us at the SW/DH household coasted into the driveway on fumes. Empty tanks--emotionally, physically, you name it. And Delighted Husband and I knew we both had to work Saturday and we were just flatlined about it. Could barely fog a mirror at the thought.
I remember thinking "God help" and I don't even think it was that coherent. But God heard. And God knew exactly what to do. (this is one of my favorite things about Himself) God sent my friends.
One friend sent me an email that said essentially, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm worried about you. You're working too hard. It's fine for you to be excited about this new calling God has invited you to, but you have to honor yourself and your family with the pace in which you do it." Wise man. And Grace of God I did not let my pride get in the way of hearing him. And Grace of God I did not let my pride get in the way of hearing Him. Cause they were singin' a duet. No doubt about it.
Another friend called me to check on me. After a few hiccups and interruptions I finally started to tell him the story of the last few days and the condition I was in because of it. Frazzled. Tired. Excited, but with an increasing sense of fatigue that had started a feeling of lowgrade panic. He listened--patiently, sympathetically--telling me that he and his wife had been praying for us. Then he smiled (I could just hear it through the phone) and said, "You know us guys, we have this tendency, this need, to want to 'fix it'. And even though I've listened sympathetically, and I think you feel supported, I just have this male need to offer a suggestion. Can you humor me?"
Sure!
"What I think you should do, is play. And do something really special. And get the whole family involved. And later, after the kids are in bed, in your own inimitable way, you should love your husband and let him love you."
And folks that's exactly what I did.
I called Delighted Husband and told him I was planning a night of fun and recreation and I wanted to know where he wanted to go out for dinner. A nice dinner. He was a bit surprized by the recommendation. Surprized in a good way. I mean I could tell his brain hadn't even been on the "how can I reward myself tonight" trajectory. Ding! Score one for Friend Dennis.
"Uh, wow, hon. What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Oh, nice dinner. Any place you like. And by any place, I mean you don't have to pick a place that can accomodate my athletic training diet. I'm going off-plan tonight. And I'm not the least bit worried about it. I hardly ate any carbs or calories earlier today anyway, but that's not the point. The point is you can pick the place YOU want to eat, not the place that it is the most likely source for non-breaded lean protein. Easy, baby. What are you hungry for?"
And he named the restaurant.
Done.
"What else do you have in mind?" his voice is a bit lighter now. Hope is growing.
"A movie in the gameroom. Something funny and lighthearted with the kids, and lots of cuddles during and afterward."
"Oh? Great! We should have plenty of Netflix in the mailbox."
Friends, I am delighted to report that--after a delicious dinner of casual yummy decadent food--we snuggled into comfy chairs and comfy couches and watched National Lampoon's Vacation. The classic one. The kids had never seen it and I hadn't seen it since college.
We laughed ourselves to the brink of goofyness and beyond.
There is something so healing and intimate about laughter. Laughing together. And catching the eye of someone you love and watching them get the joke and enjoying their laughter more than you enjoy your own. We did that all night long. Eyes sparkling, kids giggling, guffaws and belly laughs from Delighted Husband and me.
It. was. wonderful.
And at the end, when the the closing credits rolled, and the first line of the song was sung,
We went dannnncin, cross the U. S. AAAAAAAAA, on that craaaazy king's highwaaaaaaaay
I got up out of my recliner and said,
"Kids, it's time to dance."
"Oh no Mom, really. I'm fine. You go ahead and enjoy."
(translation: you go right ahead goofy mother I am waaaay too cool for that)
Before I can form a reply, Delighted Husband says "Mommy's right. Get up and dance."
Groaning and halfhearted shuffling, they dance, as I am twirling and laughing round the room.
Next thing I know, Delighted Husband is laughing and taking them by the hand and leading them in a silly squaredance. I grab two wrists and join in. We make a meandering circle, first one way and then another, with Delighted Husband leading the switch in a sudden haphazard motion designed to keep us too goofy to try and be graceful. I am laughing at full guffaw. So is Delighted Husband. One dear child is still being a pill.
Whiney voice:"Daddy's pulling my wrist. He's going to pull it OFF! Waaah waah gripe gripe"
I keep laughing and hug him close and sing along with the movie, "Well if you were dannnnncin, your wrissssst would not get pullllllllled."
By some small grace, they got it. Dear Child shook and chortled with laughter while still enveloped in my arms. Their shaking shoulders under my hands were one of the sweetest sensations I've ever felt.
We continued our Goofy Squaredance of Love until the song ended and the credits ran out. We were all high from the endorphins of laugh. It was glorious.
Delighted Husband went straight off to bed because he has to get up pre 6am.
Dear Child who finally danced asks me to stay in his room after tuck in "just to keep me company". He's not stalling to defer sleep. I can tell he really means it. I sit down on the Zepplin pillow in the corner of their room, and Dear Child crawls into his bed. I don't remember what we talked about, or if I even said anything at all. We were just happy and warmhearted, quietly breathing the same air in the room.
"I wish I could hold your hand."
"Okay, baby."
Dear Child scrambles out of the covers, wiggles down to the foot of the bed, lays his cheek on one hand and reaches for me with the other. I sit there, just breathing, calmly and silently, and hold his hand. I have to reach, and my delt starts to burn, but I don't care. My Alex P. Keaton too-cool-to-dance son, mumbles, "I love you mom" and falls asleep holding my hand.
The last week was kind of a blur. All of us at the SW/DH household coasted into the driveway on fumes. Empty tanks--emotionally, physically, you name it. And Delighted Husband and I knew we both had to work Saturday and we were just flatlined about it. Could barely fog a mirror at the thought.
I remember thinking "God help" and I don't even think it was that coherent. But God heard. And God knew exactly what to do. (this is one of my favorite things about Himself) God sent my friends.
One friend sent me an email that said essentially, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm worried about you. You're working too hard. It's fine for you to be excited about this new calling God has invited you to, but you have to honor yourself and your family with the pace in which you do it." Wise man. And Grace of God I did not let my pride get in the way of hearing him. And Grace of God I did not let my pride get in the way of hearing Him. Cause they were singin' a duet. No doubt about it.
Another friend called me to check on me. After a few hiccups and interruptions I finally started to tell him the story of the last few days and the condition I was in because of it. Frazzled. Tired. Excited, but with an increasing sense of fatigue that had started a feeling of lowgrade panic. He listened--patiently, sympathetically--telling me that he and his wife had been praying for us. Then he smiled (I could just hear it through the phone) and said, "You know us guys, we have this tendency, this need, to want to 'fix it'. And even though I've listened sympathetically, and I think you feel supported, I just have this male need to offer a suggestion. Can you humor me?"
Sure!
"What I think you should do, is play. And do something really special. And get the whole family involved. And later, after the kids are in bed, in your own inimitable way, you should love your husband and let him love you."
And folks that's exactly what I did.
I called Delighted Husband and told him I was planning a night of fun and recreation and I wanted to know where he wanted to go out for dinner. A nice dinner. He was a bit surprized by the recommendation. Surprized in a good way. I mean I could tell his brain hadn't even been on the "how can I reward myself tonight" trajectory. Ding! Score one for Friend Dennis.
"Uh, wow, hon. What exactly did you have in mind?"
"Oh, nice dinner. Any place you like. And by any place, I mean you don't have to pick a place that can accomodate my athletic training diet. I'm going off-plan tonight. And I'm not the least bit worried about it. I hardly ate any carbs or calories earlier today anyway, but that's not the point. The point is you can pick the place YOU want to eat, not the place that it is the most likely source for non-breaded lean protein. Easy, baby. What are you hungry for?"
And he named the restaurant.
Done.
"What else do you have in mind?" his voice is a bit lighter now. Hope is growing.
"A movie in the gameroom. Something funny and lighthearted with the kids, and lots of cuddles during and afterward."
"Oh? Great! We should have plenty of Netflix in the mailbox."
Friends, I am delighted to report that--after a delicious dinner of casual yummy decadent food--we snuggled into comfy chairs and comfy couches and watched National Lampoon's Vacation. The classic one. The kids had never seen it and I hadn't seen it since college.
We laughed ourselves to the brink of goofyness and beyond.
There is something so healing and intimate about laughter. Laughing together. And catching the eye of someone you love and watching them get the joke and enjoying their laughter more than you enjoy your own. We did that all night long. Eyes sparkling, kids giggling, guffaws and belly laughs from Delighted Husband and me.
It. was. wonderful.
And at the end, when the the closing credits rolled, and the first line of the song was sung,
We went dannnncin, cross the U. S. AAAAAAAAA, on that craaaazy king's highwaaaaaaaay
I got up out of my recliner and said,
"Kids, it's time to dance."
"Oh no Mom, really. I'm fine. You go ahead and enjoy."
(translation: you go right ahead goofy mother I am waaaay too cool for that)
Before I can form a reply, Delighted Husband says "Mommy's right. Get up and dance."
Groaning and halfhearted shuffling, they dance, as I am twirling and laughing round the room.
Next thing I know, Delighted Husband is laughing and taking them by the hand and leading them in a silly squaredance. I grab two wrists and join in. We make a meandering circle, first one way and then another, with Delighted Husband leading the switch in a sudden haphazard motion designed to keep us too goofy to try and be graceful. I am laughing at full guffaw. So is Delighted Husband. One dear child is still being a pill.
Whiney voice:"Daddy's pulling my wrist. He's going to pull it OFF! Waaah waah gripe gripe"
I keep laughing and hug him close and sing along with the movie, "Well if you were dannnnncin, your wrissssst would not get pullllllllled."
By some small grace, they got it. Dear Child shook and chortled with laughter while still enveloped in my arms. Their shaking shoulders under my hands were one of the sweetest sensations I've ever felt.
We continued our Goofy Squaredance of Love until the song ended and the credits ran out. We were all high from the endorphins of laugh. It was glorious.
Delighted Husband went straight off to bed because he has to get up pre 6am.
Dear Child who finally danced asks me to stay in his room after tuck in "just to keep me company". He's not stalling to defer sleep. I can tell he really means it. I sit down on the Zepplin pillow in the corner of their room, and Dear Child crawls into his bed. I don't remember what we talked about, or if I even said anything at all. We were just happy and warmhearted, quietly breathing the same air in the room.
"I wish I could hold your hand."
"Okay, baby."
Dear Child scrambles out of the covers, wiggles down to the foot of the bed, lays his cheek on one hand and reaches for me with the other. I sit there, just breathing, calmly and silently, and hold his hand. I have to reach, and my delt starts to burn, but I don't care. My Alex P. Keaton too-cool-to-dance son, mumbles, "I love you mom" and falls asleep holding my hand.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
School Issue Resolved
I had a long, productive, encouraging meeting with the Superintendent of the School District today. PhD and everything. I left the meeting with a deep sense of relief and resolve. She apologized for everything the school had put me through and assured me that she would make sure it would not happen again. I believe her. I could have pushed a little further and asked for an apology from the offending parties at the school, but I chose to heave a sigh of relief and let the school year go and let my mind sink into the relaxation mode of Summer. Summer has its own challenges trying to keep bright little minds busy while I am working. But y'all, I have a deep sense in my heart that the war with the school is over. Praise the Lord. Thank you all for your prayers. I knew you'd wanna know as soon as I had news.
Love,
SW
PS I am SO relieved! Oh my God. I have a crinkly green bag of new books from Barnes and Noble and an icy cold sugarfree decaf cinnamon dolce from Starbucks callin' my name. Oooh. Good for the soul.
Love,
SW
PS I am SO relieved! Oh my God. I have a crinkly green bag of new books from Barnes and Noble and an icy cold sugarfree decaf cinnamon dolce from Starbucks callin' my name. Oooh. Good for the soul.
Monday, June 2, 2008
New Direction
Hey y'all. Remember when I said, "I wish there was a way for me to get paid to talk about love in all its forms, sex, marriage, healing, personal growth, and receiving all the joy our five senses have to offer." Well God is granting me the desire of my heart.
I'm gonna get to hang out with y'all a lot more often!
and I'm so happy about that!
Remember that husband I was giving some suggestions to when I got the g-spot giggles? Well, right after that, another TMB husband asked me, "are you going to be putting together a recommended toy list with best price links for us?"
and it hit me. Honest to God, I've been so busy with my current job that I forgot. I'm already a Liberator reseller. You know, I actually got the paperwork approved quite some time ago. I am a Liberator reseller. It's my heart to offer Liberator products at a discount with enough profit to make it worth my while. I've got the URL reserved, I just haven't spent the development time and money to do the site.
If y'all would join me in praying about this, it would really mean a lot to me. With my current job coming to an end, now might be the right time to bring the online store to life. I need wisdom and direction as I want to do what's right for my family. As far as I can tell, that means I continue to earn an income. It would mean a lot to me to earn that income by helping women and helping marriages.
Okay. That was Friday.
It's Monday afternoon, and I hardly know where to start, so I guess I'll start by saying Wow!
God was really busy this weekend.
So was I.
In less than an hour since I first posted this prayer need, I've received offers to help get the website started and orders for Liberator products before the first page of the website even goes live!
I remember from waaay back in the day when I did Henry Blackaby's Experiencing God Bible study, he said "pray, and then watch what God does." "God is doing a work and he invites us to join what He is already doing."
God is obviously doing a work healing women and awakening marriages and he is allowing me to tell my story and play a part.
(happy sigh) My God. {literally}
I'm continuing to work on the project management and writing the content for the new site www.sensuouswife.com. In the meantime, the site is forwarded to this blog. Can y'all please pray for a really good CPA who understands e-commerce? So far, everything y'all pray for, God has been serving up on a silver platter, so I'd be dumb not to ask for more!
Love,
SW
PS It means the world to me that I'll be able to work at home with the kids this summer. I'm so deeply grateful. Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement.
One more thing....
I'm still doing my old job for a while which means I'm working two jobs right now. Please pray for strength and protection and quality time with my family.
I'm gonna get to hang out with y'all a lot more often!
and I'm so happy about that!
Remember that husband I was giving some suggestions to when I got the g-spot giggles? Well, right after that, another TMB husband asked me, "are you going to be putting together a recommended toy list with best price links for us?"
and it hit me. Honest to God, I've been so busy with my current job that I forgot. I'm already a Liberator reseller. You know, I actually got the paperwork approved quite some time ago. I am a Liberator reseller. It's my heart to offer Liberator products at a discount with enough profit to make it worth my while. I've got the URL reserved, I just haven't spent the development time and money to do the site.
If y'all would join me in praying about this, it would really mean a lot to me. With my current job coming to an end, now might be the right time to bring the online store to life. I need wisdom and direction as I want to do what's right for my family. As far as I can tell, that means I continue to earn an income. It would mean a lot to me to earn that income by helping women and helping marriages.
Okay. That was Friday.
It's Monday afternoon, and I hardly know where to start, so I guess I'll start by saying Wow!
God was really busy this weekend.
So was I.
In less than an hour since I first posted this prayer need, I've received offers to help get the website started and orders for Liberator products before the first page of the website even goes live!
I remember from waaay back in the day when I did Henry Blackaby's Experiencing God Bible study, he said "pray, and then watch what God does." "God is doing a work and he invites us to join what He is already doing."
God is obviously doing a work healing women and awakening marriages and he is allowing me to tell my story and play a part.
(happy sigh) My God. {literally}
I'm continuing to work on the project management and writing the content for the new site www.sensuouswife.com. In the meantime, the site is forwarded to this blog. Can y'all please pray for a really good CPA who understands e-commerce? So far, everything y'all pray for, God has been serving up on a silver platter, so I'd be dumb not to ask for more!
Love,
SW
PS It means the world to me that I'll be able to work at home with the kids this summer. I'm so deeply grateful. Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement.
One more thing....
I'm still doing my old job for a while which means I'm working two jobs right now. Please pray for strength and protection and quality time with my family.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Please Pray
Please pray for one of the Dear Children, for Delighted Husband, and for me. Sometimes being a mom is hard work.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Tell Them You Love Them
Tonight I sat down in my favorite easy chair while Delighted Husband played Mario Kart Wii with the kids. I wanted to just be in the same room with them, so I brought my scrapbooking supplies into the gameroom and set up shop on my lap desk. I've been thinking about one of my girlfriends since she is preparing to move farrrrr away and the chances to see her sweet face in person are going to be few and far between. But I wasn't feeling sad. I was feeling loved, and loving her. Taking stock of all the ways I have grown as a person because she loved me. So I let my heart use the language of paper and pictures and scissors and ribbon and I told her how much I love her and how rich my life is because of her.
We all have people in our life who love us.
People that we love.
Tell them.
Don't hold back those tender words, those tender touches, the squeeze of their hand while you look them in the eye, that extra pat on the back when you hug them, that meal where you go to the trouble to make something beautiful, that phone call just because.
Do it.
What are you waiting for?
An invitation?
Consider yourself invited.
Love to sweet James for saying this so well.
We all have people in our life who love us.
People that we love.
Tell them.
Don't hold back those tender words, those tender touches, the squeeze of their hand while you look them in the eye, that extra pat on the back when you hug them, that meal where you go to the trouble to make something beautiful, that phone call just because.
Do it.
What are you waiting for?
An invitation?
Consider yourself invited.
Love to sweet James for saying this so well.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
If the Van is Rockin'
We sold our van today. Traded in our plush comfy conversion van for an fuel-efficient 4 cylinder SUV. What we were paying in gasoline every month was enough for a car payment. No lie. So we traded it in. The guys at the dealership appraised our van right away, and then we went out on test drives. When the sales manager came back from inspecting the van and gave us a good offer, he smiled and said, "We see you really enjoyed your van." "Oh yes", we said, "it's so comfortable. We took it on several road trips" We didn't really think anything of their comment. We quickly told him about a vacation road trip story, and then got back to the business of car shopping.
After a long day and many test drives, we made a deal, signed the paperwork and went out to the van to move our stuff from the van to the new SUV.
I was taking some maps and magazines out of the 2nd row seat back pockets when something pink caught my eye. I looked down on the floor between the 3rd row sofabed and the 2nd row captains chair and saw.....my favorite pair of panties! The lacy little panties had been peeled off in the heat of the moment on a date night that went very very well. I'd been wondering where those panties were! I sat down on the sofa and laughed and laughed and laughed. I showed them to Delighted Husband and said, "No WONDER the sales manager said We see you really enjoyed your van"! ;)
After a long day and many test drives, we made a deal, signed the paperwork and went out to the van to move our stuff from the van to the new SUV.
I was taking some maps and magazines out of the 2nd row seat back pockets when something pink caught my eye. I looked down on the floor between the 3rd row sofabed and the 2nd row captains chair and saw.....my favorite pair of panties! The lacy little panties had been peeled off in the heat of the moment on a date night that went very very well. I'd been wondering where those panties were! I sat down on the sofa and laughed and laughed and laughed. I showed them to Delighted Husband and said, "No WONDER the sales manager said We see you really enjoyed your van"! ;)
Friday, April 25, 2008
Treat Yourself, Queens of the Kingdom!
I took the day off today and treated myself.
I was Queen for a Day. (and every other day) but I've always wanted to say that
I took the kids to school and took the time to meet with DC1's counselor and principal to make sure DC1 is getting everything they need to succeed. This is not a parenting blog so I won't go into long details. Just to say that I went to bat for my kid and I did it with a calm won't-back-down stance. I was friendly, and smiled, and thanked the educators on the team yet I held onto myself and spoke my truth with confidence. I know what DC1 needs and I am determined they will get it. There was a big tangled up ball of yarn issue that I've been working on this week, and while the principal was walking me out, they thanked me for doing such a great job being a champion and advocate for my child. This from the person who had been stonewalling me earlier. I was gracious and kind, and I felt my crown sparkle as I walked through the parking lot out to my car. Yes! I am Queen! I may have been the only one who could see my crown, but I knew it was there. (Suzanne Sugarbaker smile)
As I drove home, I was a bit uneasy hoping my new cleaning lady would show. I had not called her yesterday to confirm (remind) her and I checked my phone for her number, realized I didn't have it, and made a mental note to look up her number on my desk as soon as I got home. I never needed to. I arrived home at 8:59 to find her waiting for me. Smiling on the back porch. A responsible adult who shows up promptly for their appointment made 3 weeks ago. THANKS BE TO GOD! I could have hugged her! and I would have but my arms were full of cleaning supplies I was bringing in from the garage.
Now my domicile has been more than a little bit topsy turvy lately. I've had lots of men wearing workboots and toolbelts with names like Bubba and Earl all OVER my house during the last month and they were all done for the foreseeable future and I was time me and my much appreciated new cleaning lady to put all to rights in my little kingdom. I want to point something out. Something very special and loving. I did it for me. I knew the kids and Delighted Husband would enjoy the lovely sparkling clean space all light and airy and organized. But I did it primarily for me. I did it for the joy of it because that is what Queens do: they put their kingdoms to rights. Set things in beauty and welcoming order. Now Queenly confidence aside, there is no frickin way I would attempt to restore order to THIS domicile all by myself. No ma'am. But with a friend, with a capable kind strong smart lady to help me? Piece a cake! Well, yeah a piece of cake but a cake you have to bake. From scratch. But you get to eat it.
My favorite Fedex delivery driver delivered a package today. I answered smiling, out of breath and sweating. a lot. "Girl what're you doin?" he said with a grin. "Oh hey. I've got a new cleaning lady." "Then why are you sweatin?" I looked ruefully over my shoulder. "There's a lot to do."
We cleaned.
and cleaned.
and cleaned.
I say we not in the royal sense. I mean we both me and the dear cleaning lady put my house in order one room at a time. She did the scrubbing and the heavy stuff. I put stuff away where I know it belongs and washed, dried and folded laundry like nobody's business.
And I enjoyed it.
Swear to God.
Now I know this could really sound Stepfordish. But trust me anyone who knows me would crack up laughing at the notion of ME as a Stepford wife. What I'm trying to say is that today, for the first time in my life, I enjoyed housework. Something shifted inside my head this morning and I thought, "Hey, I have to live here. I deserve somewhere beautiful and decent and lovely to live in so I think I'll just make this place decent and beautiful and lovely enough for the likes of me!"
So I did.
I've been reading this great book How Starbucks Saved My Life. About an unemployed Ad Executive who gets a job in a Starbucks store and experiences the unexpected joy of hard work and taking pride in a job well done. I guess it's rubbed off on me.
After I treated myself to a beautiful sparkling light airy orderly home, after paying DCL and hugging her and scheduling her return date, I treated myself to a bath in my sparkling clean jacuzzi tub. Blissed out on pleasure and smelling sweetly of lily of the valley, I put myself down for a nap.
I woke up to the sounds of the kids coming home from school.
This is one of the best days off I've ever had. I treated myself. I worked so hard I got in my target heart rate.
Will I enjoy seeing how encouraged and comforted Delighted Husband is when he drags his weary self home and sees our gorgeous little kingdom?
Sure.
But I did it for me.
I treated myself.
(ting!) That's the sound of my crown sparkling. (grin) SW
Monday, May 28, 2007
Travelblog....Austin, Texas
I've always wanted to do this. And here I am blogging by a hotel pool.
I love the idea of of being in this picture. Dear Child cavorts in the pool. Delighted Husband schmoozes his clients, and I lounge in a chaise, my laptop anchored on a snowy towel in my lap. The technological life of Riley. Right? Except the screen is difficult to see and the keyboard is getting hot!Reality never quite measures up to fantasy does it? What am I talking about? Of course if does sometimes! But I digress. How about I just tell you what I was going to tell you about the fun we're having in Austin?
We initially stayed at Hotel A which promised a suite and gave us a tiny room with a token 1/3 wall separating the bedroom from the living room. The living room where Dear Child is supposed to sleep. Privacy? What a crock. Our bed is about 2 feet from the sofabed. Hello. That's not privacy. It's too bad too, because the bed is a puffy cloud of a bed. With a full length mirror directly across from it. I was *really* looking forward to making and viewing some hot little love scenes in that mirror but it was not to be. Dear Child drank too much caffeine soda pop (cause we're on vacation!) and the beloved little darling could*not* go to sleep. I called in the reinforcements by asking my girlfriend to pray and lo and behold Hotel B presents itself. When Hotel B says suite they mean sweet. A separate bedroom with a wall full of mirrors. Booya!
I love the idea of of being in this picture. Dear Child cavorts in the pool. Delighted Husband schmoozes his clients, and I lounge in a chaise, my laptop anchored on a snowy towel in my lap. The technological life of Riley. Right? Except the screen is difficult to see and the keyboard is getting hot!
We initially stayed at Hotel A which promised a suite and gave us a tiny room with a token 1/3 wall separating the bedroom from the living room. The living room where Dear Child is supposed to sleep. Privacy? What a crock. Our bed is about 2 feet from the sofabed. Hello. That's not privacy. It's too bad too, because the bed is a puffy cloud of a bed. With a full length mirror directly across from it. I was *really* looking forward to making and viewing some hot little love scenes in that mirror but it was not to be. Dear Child drank too much caffeine soda pop (cause we're on vacation!) and the beloved little darling could*not* go to sleep. I called in the reinforcements by asking my girlfriend to pray and lo and behold Hotel B presents itself. When Hotel B says suite they mean sweet. A separate bedroom with a wall full of mirrors. Booya!
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