Late, but not in labor.

May 23, 2013 § 4 Comments

“Why is she still here?”

Well, I love you, too.

I know how late this post is going up. This girl struggled all day yesterday and into this morning, trying to think of what to say, which direction to take at this point of The Great Peanut Watch 2013.
Something deep and profound?
Something simply benign and humorous?
Anything more about this darned pregnancy? [To which the answer is “yes,” but more recap to come on that later.]
Just pictures? Though at this point my life is about as exciting as Ben Stein’s voice, so I only have pictures of my cat.
And then it happened:

Kenny woke up wanting waffles. This sounded delightful. And as I went about composing this post, he got to work in the kitchen.
Then came sounds worthy of a classic Batman & Robin episode–CRASH! BANG! BOOM! SMASH!

It just kept going.
I immediately thought he must have seriously injured himself whilst doing a backflip over the kitchen table.

Instead, I walk in to see sugar. So much sugar. Everywhere. Nothing untouched by sugar. A snowstorm of sugar had hit our kitchen. I mean, wow.
“It slipped,” he explained, as he was getting it down from a high shelf. “I’m sorry.”

Now, the Natalie I know and tolerate would have typically reacted in the following way: hot flashing, open-mouthed, incredulous, eyes darting between sweet mess and bashful husband, ready to give him a hard time. Oh, the cleanup. The stickiness under my feet. The ants.

After all, I had a blog post to finish. Ugh.

Instead, I had to laugh. At the seat cushions unrecognizable under the layer of white. At his footprint cast in one particular pile next to the now-empty canister.
“We had just filled that up, hadn’t we?” I asked him.
“Yeah, we did. It was full to the brim,” he answered.

And we got to work. For the next 45 minutes.
vacuuming, cleaning out the vacuum, and vacuuming some more.
Waffles would wait.

And as he took over cleaning every crevice and I started in on the pile of dishes in the sink that wasn’t helping the state of the kitchen either, I couldn’t help but think, “This is only the beginning.”

We are soon to be a family of messes and spills. It’s just what happens when children enter the fold of an already clumsy household (I’m talking about me most of the time–Kenny just has his moments). Things will get dirty, smudged, piled up, and broken. And I want to remember this morning.
It’s not the end of the world. We have more sugar. It’ll take time, but let’s get to work.

Waffles will wait.

I SO hate to admit that my default is one of aggravation, frustration, and inconvenience. But that will have to change. I’d like to think that my husband has had that effect on me–processing better and weighing my options. Is it really worth the energy to be put-out? What good does it do? He threw out jokes as he sucked up the mess and had to wait on his breakfast. He just got ‘er done.

I want to be more like him when I grow up.

Regardless of what it is, sugar or a family heirloom, it’s rarely an improvement on the situation to give an exasperated sigh, scowl, or snide retort. This, I’m learning. And I pray to keep learning.

And as I sat back down to write this and he went back to making breakfast, he called from the kitchen,

“And all I needed was one tablespoon of sugar.”

Isn’t that just the way?

Let’s go forth and remain calm, my cool cucumbers. We still might feel some sugar under our feet, but we’ll get our waffles in the end.


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