As a prelude and warning to the second part of a very long story: I tried to make hot chocolate today and microwaved an empty cup. So if that brilliance is any sign of how well-written this will be . . . Well, I'm just saying, don't expect too much.
Anyways, I left you yesterday with Sabo's grandmother insisting that I bring him and his siblings home. Because I am mature and in control of my emotions, I stalked over to Adam and informed him in that tell-tale nearly crying voice (you know the one, your voice is wavering and it hurts to talk past the lump in your throat): "Sabo's grandmother is sick of us, so I'm going to go ahead and bring them home. Ok bye." Adam, always the voice of reason, reminded me that I probably shouldn't traipse about the worst parts of town by myself, so I dragged poor Jonathan along.
In the car, I attempted to talk to Sabo calmly, using my lump-in-the-throat voice which is more than slightly higher-pitched than normal (a fact which didn't escape Samaya's notice since she imitated everything I said and laughed hysterically afterwards). But I digress . . . . again, sorry for the obscene amount of detail and rambling in this tale.
I told Sabo that he hurt my feelings because I have always gone out of my way to take him to ball games and out for lunch and over to our house . . . Sabo was still upset with me and replied that he had just been "playing" the whole time and that Ray Ray shouldn't have hit him first . . . I was exasperated enough that I wanted to yell and lecture him a little (and I just might have - my emotions were that frayed - had Jonathan not been sitting next to me).
We arrived at their apartment, and I explained the WHOLE story to Carrie (thankfully for everyone involved, I did not go into as much detail as I am currently). Once she heard what really happened, she took my side over Sabo's (oh sweet vindication) and allowed Sincere and Samaya to come to the game with us. Jonathan and I loaded them up in the car and headed BACK to the Dream Center (where the 28 other kids were waiting). I called Adam to reassure him that I wasn't actually falling apart and that everything was ok.
Adam was pleased to inform me that there had been a mix-up and the Hawks tickets were not, in fact, for that afternoon. Rather, they were for next week Monday - we just forgot to check the date. Because Metro Kidz? It is a well-oiled machine.
Despite my frustration and embarrassment at returning the kids to Carrie with a big 'oops' after all the drama, I did remind Jonathan that we were lucky to be in the car with two kiddos rather than 28 kiddos. Particularly when they were told that they would NOT, in fact, be attending the Hawks game that afternoon (not to mention telling their parents who were eagerly anticipating 5 hours without kids . . . )
We stopped and got the kiddos and their grandma a milkshake from McDonald's on the way back (I felt they should get SOMETHING out of a chaotic day full of drama and empty promises) and because I am perhaps (as Jonathan mentioned) the "queen of all pushovers" I also got a milkshake for Sabo.
The milkshake, surprisingly, did not solve anything and Sabo muttered a sarcastic 'thank-you' and 'sorry' at his grandma's prompting before sulking back upstairs.
So, emotionally spent, Adam and I headed home to see our sweet baby girl. Who proceeded to cry for 5 hours straight (no exaggeration - seriously) before finally going to sleep at around midnight.
Needless to say, this is the point where all the crying and blubbering commenced (as described here). I was over it. Over being a mom, over being in inner-city ministry, over everything.
I wanted in that moment to simply curl up in my bed and come out in a few weeks when I was caught up on months of sleep-deprivation.
But the truth is that I AM a mom, I AM in this ministry, I AM who God made me to be and I need to remember that.
I prefer to wrap up my negative posts with a nice lesson, kind of like a big pretty bow. But I am still in the middle of this one. I don't know completely what the lesson is, or what God has planned. But I will trust that He does have a plan, and that He is good. That's the only way I can make it through this messy life.