As I sat in bed to write my slice, my darling high school daughter entered my room at approximately 10:20pm in sheer panic!
Her essay was due at 11:55pm. Tonight. No exceptions.
I figured…sure I can help edit before I write my slice and drift off to sleep. Hmmm, well I could if you had anything written. Show me what you have! Your outline isn’t filled in. What do you mean you don’t know how to fill in an outline? Why did you wait until now to ask for help? How long have you had this? Four days?!?! That really isn’t a thesis. What did you think were the most important causes? Which source aligns with that? How can you say that better? Do you know the last time I explored the causes of World War I? Well me either!
Well! She submitted at 11:54:36.
Then out came the math homework she needed help with…and now it’s 1am and the thing I’m most upset about is that I just ruined my 15 day slice streak!
I’m glad she finally realized I can help her when she struggles. She’s hard headed (totally gets that from her father) and standoffish at times (dad’s trait too), and independent. And almost always refuses help. I’m glad she’s finally coming around to see that we’re all in this together.
I just requested she do it at an earlier hour next time!
While watching an off the grid home building show tonight with my husband, we shared a laugh when they finished. They said something to the effect of “ah! Finally finished!” At which point my husband turned to me and said “do you remember that feeling?” Which of course made us laugh and start to reminisce.
I told my husband I have one moment that stands out more than any other during the WHOLE homebuilding process. Before I shared, I asked him to think about his. He thought for a moment then started rattling off an entire laundry list of events that took place over the last 2 years.
Pouring the foundation
Watching the center steel support beam being placed
Walls going up
Putting up the exterior log siding
Installing the log staircase
Returning to see the mason had finished the stone fireplace and island
Kitchen cabinets and countertops
Doors and floors being set into place
Then I told him my moment…the day we installed our custom ordered, hand carved door. It was such a vivid and clear moment for me. I had spent weeks sanding, taping, sealing our precious door. Sure there were other moments that were important (like when we were able to whole a whole 12 hour day together without arguing). Sure there were other events that were an integral part of the completed project (read: insulation).
All of these things were extremely important. All of these things made our house safe, solid, functional.
What none of these events did, this door was able to do.
These events built a house, our door made it our home.
There’s something about sleeping in a cold room with the window open and cold, crisp sheets.
There’s something about not having to bundle up each time I go outside.
There’s something about ordering new flips flops and getting a pedicure.
There’s something about the ugly grey slush that has been washed away.
There’s something about this weather that I just love!
Had corned beef last night…
Today was Rubens…
Mother in law in tears and pain…
An unexpected trip to the ER…
There’s something so calming, so peaceful, so refreshing about painting a room in your home.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a ton of prep work. Taking down all the things hanging on the walls. Washing walls. Taping. Cutting in corners. Rolling without leaving lines.
But when you’re finished…you’ve managed to transform a whole space!
After the amount of painting we’ve done in the last year in our new build lake house, I thought I would cringe at that thought of painting our kitchen. I picked up that paint brush like it was an old friend. Curling my hand around it, like a long overdue hug. Back in the rhythm of painting with my husband. Moving around the room. Me up and down the step stool with brush in hand ensuring edges have been cut in and covered. Him with the roller occasionally stepping back to
admire check his work.
So most of you who know me, know that while patience is a virtue…it is not one I possess in most areas of my life.
My daughter had a 4pm dentist appointment to have her wire tightened on her braces. I specifically picked this day and time with the knowledge that my husband (her stepfather) would be able to take her. Unfortunately, he flipped days with someone and I didn’t realize it until it was too late. Knowing I would not be able to get her there at that time because of tutoring, I enlisted the help of my mother. My mother tried to leave 15 minutes before the appointment and my girls laughed at her, saying “we don’t need to get there early.” They left later but still arrived at 1 minute before the appointment time. I arrived around 4:10. Somewhere around 4:25, they finally called my daughter to the back. We exchanged a few words about it being a quick visit and making some dinner decisions. My mother and younger daughter left to go pick up dinner and meet us at her house. At 4:48, I received a notification that my daughter had arrived at home. I was still in the waiting room. I asked the receptionist if she was almost done. She looked in the back and said the dentist was in with her now, maybe she broke a bracket off. At 5:00, still no sign of her. Another 10 minutes pass before she emerges. She walks out and says, “we had a technical difficulty.” He calls me back so we can discuss her progress and the first words out of his mouth…”We had a little problem. We had to replace a bracket that got popped off.” He leaves us to see another patient and I ask, “how did you pop a bracket off?” She proceeds to tell me that she didn’t, but he did while taking her old wire out. A good laugh was had by all.
So, my plan to schedule the appointment when someone else would have to exhibit their patience…foiled again! Apparently, the universe thinks practicing patience will help develop mine.