Leaving Oz

My Son Broke My Mom's Nose

Our much anticipated visit to my parents' home at the end of September was fraught with one challenge after another.  About ten days before I was to leave for Ohio, I had arguably the biggest fight with my mom that I've had since living outside of her house.  Raised voices, locked doors, hanging up on one another... it was bad.  I almost cancelled the trip, but I knew that would be a mistake made in the heat of my emotion. 

Then, after my mother and I reconciled which was a small miracle (thank you, Lord!), the power went out in my parents' home for seven days.  Every day, I would call, as the date for our departure drew nearer, and ask, "Is it on yet?" 

And she would reply, "Not yet.  Maybe tomorrow." 

Simple Pleasures

After the birth of my first born I joined a local mom’s group.  During an icebreaker at the beginning of a meeting we were asked to divide ourselves into one of four groups based on our answer to a simple question.  The question posed was, what gift would you want your husband to give you?  A) jewelry B) time alone C) a vacation D) a massage.  I promptly scooted to the A group.  I assumed it would be a popular choice –but I was truly surprised when I turned around to see a very large group forming of women who just wanted to be alone. 

Fast forward my life to the present and now time alone sounds pretty appealing to me.  I am still in the days where all my cupboards and drawers have safety locks on them  and I drop exhaustedly into bed many nights thankful to God that my adventurous children are still alive despite trying to eat Gramma’s humble houseplant that Poison Control identified as toxic or seeing my child, who was a moment ago behind the couch, now wide-eyed on the patio as his legs are on top of jagged glass in the window he just fell through.  Life as I know it is very eventful.  Maybe that is why I get so jazzed about things that simplify what I do.

During a recent playdate I offered some homemade ginger molasses cookies to my friend and her three children.  She declined.  I responded in my most winsome voice, “They are homemade.”  She said, “No they are not! They are too perfect to be homemade.”  To her surprise Skylar told her we had made the cookies that week.  She wanted to know how the cookies came out looking exactly the same.  A good ole ice cream scoop I told her.  My ice cream scoop not only scoops ice cream but cookie dough, perfect portions of batter into muffin tins and for you Danes- ableskiever (and for you non-Danes it is like a mini jelly filled donut). I also use it to make oatmeal sundaes for breakfast.  Who wouldn’t eat oatmeal if it was served to you in a sundae glass with lots of yummy toppings to choose?  Such a simple household gadget but it has made my life a bit easier.