Last night was rough, and Xavier has been up and at 'em between 5 and 6 most mornings these days, so in the end I got a total of 5 hours of sleep last night. Which makes for a rough morning. On top of that, as I was pulling a rhubarb strawberry (yes, in that order) pie out of the refrigerator this morning, it slipped from my hands and crashed on the floor. The pie plate smashed to pieces. The pie was rendered inedible by all the tiny glass shards. I swore under my breath and pouted at Kenneth. It wasn't just the pie plate I was upset about. The pie had taken DAYS to put together. It's so hard to do these things with a baby, and I look forward to cooking with rhubarb every year... I love food and I love cooking (when I can). And it's so hard to find time to do it with joy right now. So the days of effort it took to steal time here and there to track down the perfect recipe, get the groceries, prep the rhubarb and other ingredients, then bake it (which ended up being a 2 day process alone)... All that effort, ruined by tiny glass shards.
As Kenneth shooed me and my bare feet out of the kitchen to clean up (never mind the fact his feet were bare too), I grumbled about how I was trying to have a good attitude, but overall, I gave this morning a ranking of zero. He responded, "Well, you woke up this morning. You're alive."
Me: "Fine. I give this morning a one."
Kenneth: "And you're married. You have me."
Me: "Ok, I give it a two."
Kenneth: "And you have a baby."
Me: "True..."
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| All that I need. |
Basically, I needed the reminding that all I needed to make me happy I already had. So while I still grumbled a bit more this morning, it didn't last much longer. I needed the reminding that life is good. God is good. Even if the morning includes tiny pieces of glass filling your labor of love pie.
