Did you forget to pay the mail bill?

The trip to the mail box always sucks. Yesterday, it was, yet again, a pile of bills that will be filed in the "can't pay this week" file. Actually, it is a pile. We don't own files. And, funny enough, two credit card offerings from the very mortgage company trying to foreclose on my house. How ironic is that? I wrote, in Sharpie, across the application, "you are foreclosing on my house!" and had to stop myself from name calling. I would not have written anything vulgar. I did want to write the word dummy, though. Thank goodness for the postage paid envelopes they conveniently include.

When I went to the mail box the day before, there wasn't a piece of mail. No fliers, or junk mail. From time to time, that happens, and my first thought is always, "oh gosh....we forgot to pay the mail bill"....and then I come to. Panic, followed by a giggle.

I cleaned the house, and put up our Christmas decorations. I swear, I feel like we just put them away. I mean, JUST PUT THEM AWAY. And the mild temperatures we have been having, up until today, have made me feel a little in denial.

The Spaghetti dinner at Charlotte's school, that we always attend, is tomorrow night. She loves going, and I had to tell her, we couldn't go. She asked why, and, I said we couldn't afford it. She said, with a giant smile on her face, "I understand Mom." She made me proud.

A few years back, when David was unemployed, that Christmas was really scary. We went to the spaghetti dinner. I was pregnant with Molly. I volunteered to help. When I arrived early, no spaghetti was being cooked. I mean, not even a pot of boiling water. I had brought along our lobster pot. It was a wedding shower gift. I had actually registered for a lobster pot, because I imagined this unbelievable married life, complete with numerous lobster dinners. So many, apparently, that our life would necessitate our very own lobster pot. Of course, right?

Anyhow...I filled up the pot, and all of the others, and jacked the stove up, hoping that the boiling would begin. No one was doing a thing. Nothing! I tried looking around for the person in charge, and quickly realized that there wasn't anyone, and took charge. And it happened within 10 minutes.

The dinner was starting in less than 30 minutes. I started barking out orders, and telling people what to do. Sending husbands to the store. Directing kids to set the tables. Telling other mom's to set up a buffet line. I boiled up probably 100 lbs of pasta, and cooked sauce. I really didn't know I had it in me. I had volunteered to "set up", and there I was cooking dinner for 250 people.

I was sweating. When David arrived with the girls, they were disappointed I wasn't going to be sitting with them, and David was actually chuckling, realizing, I was it. I was the cook.

There was one of those 50/50 raffles. I remember telling David to buy some tickets, because maybe, we could win some money. I was actually praying. I recall asking God to get us out of our jam. I was ashamed that I had a baby in my stomach. I was horrified we had to apply for food stamps. I was mortified that a case worker asked me for documentation of my pregnancy, despite my swollen belly. I thought, we just have to win that raffle. We have to.

We didn't. And I felt crushed. I think it was a little over one hundred dollars, but that was more than we had. More than I have presently, funny enough.

Molly is laying on a chair in the living room, in a princess dress. She is 2. And a half. I have to add the half part. We can't go to the spaghetti dinner tomorrow night. But that's alright.

 David just called me. I have to go and make a few calls to our Senators. They are voting today, possibly, to freeze Federal workers pay for two more years, and cut Federal jobs.

 And then off to the mailbox.