Wanting to be Minty Fresh

Let me tell you about my Saturday morning...

It started out almost as perfect as perfect can get, in that I was able to sleep until 9:00am. No, that's NOT a typo. My 4 high maintenance kids let me sleep in. The other miraculous thing about that is the fact that Michael wasn't even home. he left before 6am to go on a many-mile bike ride, and I didn't expect him home until about 11am or so. The kids let me sleep in and took care of themselves until 9am. Wow.

I walked blurry-eyed into the kitchen after profusely thanking my children for the extra hour or two of REM sleep. As I was adding beans to the grinder, the phone rang. A very excited Michael was on the other end. He had finished his ride and wanted me to go pick up all the "stuff" he was bringing home and couldn't carry himself on his bike. I told him I was fresh out of the bed, but assured him I would just "throw on some clothes" and be there in a jiffy.

I stuck the kids in the car, Ethan still in the diaper from the night before and me with sleep creases on my face, hair disheveled, and a good case of dragon breath. It was not pretty.

When I arrived at the square and saw Michael, I quickly realized that there was some form of miscommunication. My idea of "picking up" and his idea were not one and the same. Michael wanted us to actually EXIT the car, mill around with other riders, mingle and be a part of the post-ride scene. I was having none of it! I tried to explain to Michael about the dragon breath, but his retort was "Well, I don't have great breath either!"

Michael got the kids out of the car. Ethan, in jammies, heavy, down-to-the-knees diaper, and no shoes, Molly dressed like Nanook in long sleeves, jeans and a fleece (it was already at least 80 degrees), Mason and Caroline all took off running. I sat in the car. I had the engine running so I could benefit from the air conditioner, but looked down to see that I was already past the little red line. I had 30 minutes to wait until Michael's lunch arrived from a local BBQ place, and I new I would run out of gas.

So, I called Michael over, explained the situation, told him I was going home to brush my teeth and change Ethan's diaper and that I would be back in a flash.

On the way home I fumed. Why can't Michael understand how I feel? Why would Michael tell me to come get his stuff when all the stuff isn't there yet (the lunch wasn't there)? Doesn't Michael understand that I was fresh out of the bed and might need a few minutes - not to PRIMP - but to look presentable!? Me! Me! Me!

After taking 5 minutes to do the necessaries, I was back on the road.

When I got back up to the square, I saw that Molly was pasty looking. She was also crying. I took off her fleece and told her to go sit on the courthouse steps. We stood around, Molly's wails filling up the background. Lunch had arrived (finally!), and Michael was picking his up when I heard it...

"MAMA!!!!"

I turned and ran over to Molly just in time to help her lean over the side rail and lose her breakfast. I don't think I'll ever feel the same way about pumpkin bread again.

After wiping Molly off with the only thing I had - her fleece, we headed home...

Here's where I'll insert the pithy little tidbit about what God taught me.

Michael wanted me to come up to the courthouse to revel with him in his finishing his first big bike ride. Fresh breath and a baby that doesn't smell like tee-tee were higher priorities for me. If I could do it all over and understand his motive, I hope that I would be a more loving and less selfish wife. Unfortunately, I don't get another chance to relive those moments (and let's face it...in some ways I'm mighty thankful), but because God is a God of grace, and because my husband loves me, I'll have many more chances to try. Some of those chances will result in my successfully loving others well. Some of them, unfortunately, will result in my failure...but through it all, God is committed to completing the work he began. That IS comforting!

I'm thankful I never get tossed.

Bless ya!