take two

The kids are back in school, which means that Ammon wants me to play with him. I guess it's kind of funny how you can remember and forget a schedule over the few months of summer. I remember the glorious quiet time after lunch. I remember the 7 hours straight of not having to break up fights. I forget how the mornings are extra-long now that I'm up and dressed and breakfast is over by 7:00 a.m. I forget how in the back of my mind I am always wondering what my kids are doing and learning while they are away from me.

So what did we do to stay busy on this the second day of school? We visited the pet store. It smells not great in there, though I'm not sure if it's the animals or the wood chips. We saw $900 dollar birds and $2 fish and a tarantula and some cool lizards and snakes. We also saw rats and mice, and I have to admit that I find them...disgusting. Why would you pay money for a rodent?! I would rather have a tarantula or a snake.

Anyway, so I started thinking about how the last few days I have been...anxious. AKA grouchy. All this quiet time has given me time to think about how I could have done things differently. That's not a bad thing. It's a learning experience. So if could I rewrite two, let's call them events, from the last two days, this is how they would have happened.

Event 1.

I walk down the stairs and call out to everyone that it's time to get into the car. We have been invited to someone's home for dinner. I smell the brownies cooking , so I open the oven and pull them out. They are--well done. Instead of panicking and talking loudly at everyone in loud-talking distance, I laugh at the predicament we are in: burnt brownies and a place to be. I brainstorm for three seconds and decide that it will be ok to 1. be a few minutes late and 2. mix up a new batch of brownies and 3. cook them at our friend's home. Plan B goes just fine, and we laugh about it later.

Event 2.

The grass needs to be mowed. Desperately. Like, it hasn't been mowed in (too long to admit), but I'm unwilling to mow it myself (mainly because it's over 100 degrees outside and I'm a baby), so I solve the problem by waiting patiently for my very busy husband to mow it. After family home evening, I offer to get the kids ready and in bed while he mows the grass. Dear husband (hereafter referred to as D.H.) helps our 10 year old practice mowing in a straight line. I hurry to the backyard to pick up crunchy socks and sand buckets that have been abandoned in the grass, and right as I finish, realize that that the mower has stopped. It is 8:30, and it is dark, that must be why. I come in and thank D.H. for mowing the front yard without asking about the backyard, because I know that he can see the long grass, and also that he knows that I would like shorter grass.


So what I've learned from these events is that if I had time to think about how to respond, I'd be amazing. Also, I need to work on laughter and gratitude.