I had quite the weekend. On Saturday afternoon, I was on the landing of the stairs from the main floor to the top floor and our 2004 (read: older, bigger, heavier) Dyson vacuum cleaner was on the top floor. I was on my hands and knees, cleaning, when the Dyson fell down the stairs and slammed into the top of my head. I don't know how my head did not receive a laceration because the part that hit me was as close to "sharp" as you can get. The reason I know what part of the vacuum hit me is because the impact caused it to break off. It scared the bejesus out of me, hurt like Hell and I cried for an hour (all the while continuing to clean. This is a huge breakthrough because I HATE to clean but have recently found a new system that seems to be working. I don't want to jinx myself by blogging about it, so stay tuned...). Then the hubs and B came home and I flew into the hubs' arms and started sobbing as he repeatedly asked me, "Why didn't you call me so we could come home?" and picked through my hair in search of blood.
After my housework, the hubs and I went outside to do some yard work while B and his "brotha from anotha motha" (B's words, not mine! What the Hell were the hubs and B watching/doing during my stint as a WOHM at nights?!) played in the street. (Don't worry, we live on a dead end street with no traffic except for the residents, who expect kids and parties in the street because it is nicely shaded.) Anywho, during this yard work, I managed to crack myself in the forehead with a rake handle and whack myself in the left ear with a broom handle hard enough that I have 2 red lumps that hurt like Hell (the vacuum and the broom left painful lumps; luckily, the rake did not and I am good with that). Luckily, I had a mom's night out planned with one of my fav girlfriends last night. The restaurant she picked served awesome food, cheap drinks and we had a great time.
Today started off calm enough - the hubs went out for a haircut, we went to church, shopped at Costco and Wegmans, came home to a phone message that the "brotha" wanted to get together again, he came over and he and B played nicely. Then, I open a bottle of coconut aminos that exploded like a shaken bottle of champagne all over the hubs' white, collared, button-down shirt. After that, I was preparing to put the pork ribs in the electric pressure cooker and thought the cooking pot was inside the cooking element (but I was wrong) and ended up pouring 2 cups of soda directly on the heating element and it proceeded to pour out the bottom of the pressure cooker, all over my counter, I grabbed it and pulled it over to the sink to drain but it ran down and into one of my kitchen cabinets (and actually filled a steamer/spaghetti pot in that cabinet), splashed all over the floor and two cushioned, absorbent kitchen floor mats on the way to the sink and by the time I actually got it over the sink, all the soda was gone. The hubs tried to open up the pressure cooker and dry off the soda so we can continue to use it, but it wouldn't open. The manual specifically says not to put any liquid in the pressure cooker, only in the removable cooking pot, because you run the risk of electric shock and fire. The hubs was of the opinion that now that all of the soda has drained out, we can just plug it in, start it up and the heat of the pressure cooker would burn off the soda. Well, we did it his way and it worked!
I didn't get to eat any of the ribs because I had a mandatory Vacation Bible School meeting from 7-9pm. I love the little kids. Unfortunately, I was really late to the volunteer game this year and there were no infant, toddler nor preschool teacher slots left. I was assigned to be an elementary school-aged leader. Now, in the past, I have worked in the nursery (who doesn't love and enjoy the babies?) and the kitchen to provide snacks - pretty easy-breezy, fun and stress-free. As I sat through the meeting tonight and listened to all the security procedures that, rightfully and necessarily, are in place in the world we live in, I was feeling more and more stressed out!
Then at the end of the night I got together with my youth assistant leaders. VBS participants are up to 5th grade; 6th graders and up get to be youth assistants. All my assistants have done this job in years past. Yeah! They know what they are doing and can help me do my job best! One of my assistants is an 8th grade boy who is genuine, not one of those teens who's "too cool to care" and excited for VBS to start. When it was time to go home, he was the only one left with me (the girls had gone home because we were all done). As a parting line, I told him, "enjoy your last week of school!" To which he replied, "I'm actually homeschooled. So I learn all the time." A veteran at leading VBS, so he knows the ropes and can help me find my way and he's homeschooled, so we have that in common. I knew right then and there that The Lord had "thrown me a bone" or, more precisely, a life raft, to not only let me know that I am not alone in caring for and being responsible for my 15 3rd and 4th graders in VBS, but he also "opened a window" after the door slamming I experienced this weekend with the vacuum, the rake, the broom, the coconut aminos and the pressure cooker.
God is good and I am so blessed to be His child!
- I am a very lucky woman with a husband and son who are smart, witty and entertaining. Our son, B, attended public school for two years, and then we embarked on a new adventure in the Fall of 2010 - homeschooling. We don't have all the answers, but we know B and this has been the best thing for him. I blog to preserve our stories and our memories, share recipes, vent and ramble on about our crazy, yet blessed, life. Would you care to follow along?