My Professional Background - Once upon a time, I wanted to be a motivational speaker. Actually, I was a professional motivational speaker for about 5 years.:

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.”
(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, ESV)

For everything, a season.

And it seems that our 3-year-old and our almost-2-year-old have joined together to drag us all—kicking and screaming—through the “break down,” “weep,” and “war” seasons of life. Every day feels like a cage match. Every. Single. Day.

“JJ, don’t hit your sister.”

“Averi, quit stomping on your brother’s hair.”

“JJ, give that toy back to Averi.”

“Averi, get your hand out of your brother’s shirt.”

“JJ, no. You can’t have cereal for breakfast, lunch AND dinner.”

“Averi, please don’t eat my shoes.”

“BOTH of you stop stabbing the table with your forks!”

“Averi, look at me. LOOK AT ME!”


“Who put my cell phone in the refrigerator? Never mind, I think that was me.”

“No, you can’t sleep at the foot of our bed, son. You’re not a dog.”

“I will buy you a toy or a purse or a REAL, LIVE PONY if you just go to sleep without making yourself throw up!”

It’s been a fairly difficult “season” for us lately. With my grandfather’s passing last week and the ensuing 17-hour road trip (each way), things at our house have spiraled even further into a never-ending cycle of meltdowns and mayhem. Hissy fits and heartbreak. Tantrums and tirades.

And don’t even get me started on how the kids have behaved.


“She’s not talking about us, is she?”

Seriously, I have spent the past week hiding out in the basement in my pajamas. I organized the entire thing from top to bottom, only coming upstairs to sleep and eat.


(In case you’re concerned, this is the before photo.)

Why did I do all this? Because that’s what crazy people do. We spend DAYS organizing and cleaning out 7 different tool boxes with alcohol and q-tips because there is so little else that demands our attention. Like children or mealtimes…or daytime.

I’m so thankful that Brian has been able to pick up the slack this week and take the kids to the park when all I want to do is take a Magic Eraser to every surface in our basement. I’m like an OCD hamster hopped up on espresso. (Hamsters are nocturnal, which is why I make that reference. Also, because they can spin their wheels for hours on a task that accomplishes absolutely nothing. I think the OCD and espresso references are pretty self-explanatory.)

But maybe I’m too hard on myself. I did accomplish a thing or two in the dark, spider-webby corners of our basement. I made a pretty dramatic career decision:  I decided to become a stand-up comedienne. That’s right.

Because I can’t think of a better career move for a depressed, stay-at-home mother who doesn’t drink and hates the bar scene.

Seems like a natural fit, right?

Or maybe I’m just so ready for this “time to laugh” season of my life.

So, yeah. I’m not even kidding. I’ve already written some material for my routine. It’s entitled “The Mommy Has Two Faces” and it’s all about the overpriced doctor who diagnosed me with bi-polar disorder and then encouraged me to self-medicate…with caffeine.

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you drink some coffee when you’re feeling down.”

“Seriously? Because I could have paid $4.15 to have the barista at Starbucks tell me that.”

Or, I could talk about my personal favorite psychiatrist, Eyebrows. That’s what I called him because I never learned his real name. In fact, I learned NOTHING else the entire time I was in his office except just how important it is for a man to listen to his hairstylist when they suggest an eyebrow trim.

Or there’s always the cowboy doctor with a chocolate, Coke Zero addiction who used stick figure drawings of kitchen appliances to explain the art of foreplay. That pretty much scarred me forever. I need to go dig up that drawing. Y’all need to see it.

Alright, who’s coming to my show in Vegas?

Excuse me, I have to go make some phone calls.

“Brian, get my agent on the phone, STAT! … Okay, then look online and find me an agent!”

[Someone, please delete the stand-up comedy station from Katy’s Pandora app. And feel free to replace it with a Good Housekeeping or Martha Stewart channel instead.]


Comments to "A Time to Weep, and a Time to Laugh"

  1. Katy's Mom

    October 11, 2013

    This too shall pass. You will one day look back on these days and laugh. Keep your sense of humor. I love you!!!!

  2. Dona

    October 11, 2013

    Yeah, well, I, for one, think you’d be an amazing stand up comic! Call it an outlet for your inner (or outer) creative genius! No, I’m serious! Dona

  3. Julie

    October 11, 2013

    Holy moley you got me laughing at the eyebrow monster.
    I stare in wonder, amazement, and fear at long overgrown eyebrows in older men.
    What’s worse is when I get older, if I’m blessed to grow older that is, instead of the eyebrow thing, I’ll have the overgrown earlobes. I don’t know which is worse.
    I used to go into the bathroom and do my stand-up comedy during the crazy tantrum-filled days of child rearing.
    Now I just admit that I’m too insane to even try.
    Hugs! Hang in there it gets better.

  4. Susan Payne

    October 11, 2013

    Katy, I can so empathize having done a similar thing to my basement about 6 months ago. I do think you would make an AMAZING comedienne if that is something you wanted to do. You could bring laughter to so many and you do already through your blog and funny videos.

    You give us this wonderful window into your life of you and your beautiful family, so thank you for sharing. Things can get tough; I do think God’s love is wrapped around you right now. It doesn’t make any of it easier, but maybe it can be a comforting thought in a difficult time.

  5. Marge

    October 11, 2013

    I remember those days!! That was FUN. I love the OCD hamster on caffeine! I wish my basement looked as good as your “before”. So sorry about your Grandma, It is difficult to lose someone you love.

  6. Karmen

    October 11, 2013

    I WOULD COME TO YOUR SHOW!! Not to laugh AT you, but to laugh WITH you. I love your sense of humor!

    I too share the “let’s focus all our attention on a project right now” when I really should be doing something else. Like right now. I should be packing to get ready to leave for a trip with my husband. Or cleaning the house for my parents when they come to stay with the kids for the said trip. But no, I am feeling the need to get curtains for the living room. Yep, leaving now right after I hit send.

  7. Sarah

    October 11, 2013

    I would so come and see you do stand up.

    Also? Could you come do my basement? Because my OCD doesn’t come in that flavor…
    Sarah recently posted…Life is a Circus – Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Ticket GiveawayMy Profile

  8. Amy

    October 11, 2013

    It sounds to me like you need to be pulling out those old pictures of us, deer, Chuck’s hat, and huge mosquitoes instead of the life scarring one from the shrink. It will be both better for your brain as well as give you some good laughs!! 🙂
    I have gone through those same highs and lows and know that the lows are really really hard. I just cleaned, including scrubbing the bottom of my junk drawer. I would have done more but the kids have friends coming over, so I needed a job that could be done in 30 minutes or less. Hang in there! You are loved by MANY – including me! 🙂

  9. Marie

    October 11, 2013

    I am a stay at home mom. After my second child was born, I was hit with a year long post partum depression. I started taking improv classes at the end of that year. I desperately needed to laugh. Wish I started sooner, because laughing pulled me out of the depression and has kept me sane ever since. Three years and counting! Without those classes, I would have ended up heavily medicated and in the Looney Bin. You’re on to something, comedienne. Laughter IS the best medicine.


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