I slept late today because Ben forgot to wake me up and I don’t own an alarm clock and Ben informed me that it’s my fault I didn’t own one and didn’t set said non-existent alarm clock and thus get up on time. When I’m exhausted and stressed about getting up late his logic makes perfect sense to me and I think I apologized for being snappy and panicked. He wisely put on Christmas music a second later, knowing that whatever mood I’m in that I smile when I hear the season’s joyous musical sounds and that it would distract me further from dissecting his logic about the alarm clock. I had 8 minutes to get dressed, get my child up and fed and out the door. Hmmmm. so I delegated. Ben ran to get Summit while I pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and frantically threw on contacts and brushed my fuzzy teeth. Well, they always feel fuzzy in the morning! I brush 2 times a day, more now that I have bottom braces. I think because of the splint that my mouth hangs open more causing me to have bad morning breath. Whatever the case, no matter how late I am, I brush my teeth.
I ran and turned on both of our cars next and nearly fell on my butt on our iced-over driveway. I looked around and ours was the ONLY driveway iced over. seriously?! so I tiptoed carefully back to the house wishing our cars fit in our garage and dreading carrying out my child over the ice. Ben was freaking out because he had a work meeting soon and his review was coming up so I told him to GO GO GO! and I ran around getting a sippy cup of water and a bagel for Summit to munch on in the car. He was laughing at everything. He feeds off energy. I threw him in the car, carefully backed out, and drove to therapy. I noticed that the roads were a little icy, but I’m a careful driver so I wasn’t worried. I get there 5 minutes late and as I pull around the corner I notice that the center is conspicuously, ummm, abandoned. I was so confused. Then it hit me. Freakin’ snow day!
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Last night was worse. Not worse, like the whole night was ruined, but that my pride was seriously injured. I spent several hours cooking cookies Saturday night and Sunday afternoon when I could have been napping. I could have just bought cookies, but NO NO NO I didn’t feel good about that and I had just read on MSN about a good sugar cookie recipe that I was dying to try out. I’m not kidding you, I was working hard. I was sweating (not in the cookie dough) and flour was a-flyin’. I was rolling, creatively cutting (I couldn’t find my cookie cutters so I used some of Summit toys) and baking. Then I tasted a cookie. What the-. Flour. My freaking sugar cookies tasted like flour. It was a very sticky dough so I used flour to help roll it. I think that this recipe was not for cut-outs or something. AND I’VE MADE SUGAR COOKIES FOR YEARS AND THEY TURNED OUT! In a pathetic attempt to salvage my hours of work, I melted some chocolate in the microwave and dipped half the cookie into it. I didn’t realize that I had got “semi-sweet” and not “milk” chocolate. I hurriedly threw the still wet cookies on a baking sheet as we were running late, (imagine that,) and held the cookies in my lap on the 25 minute drive to the party. Once at the party, everyone ohhhed and awed at my chocolate dipped sugar cookies and hershey kissed peanut butter cookies stacked beautifully on the Christmas plate. One girl excitedly said Thank you, in a very passionate voice while eying my cookies. I inwardly cringed. They looked glorious and I hoped for a Christmas Miracle. I asked someone to try out a cookie- just in case it was just me- and she eagerly bit in to it. and then SPIT it out. REALLY. I’m not exaggerating. Then the poor girl kept apologizing making it even more awkward! -and I didn’t know these people very well at the party. They don’t know that I can make good cookies. This is what they must think of me. Pretty Crap is all I’m capable of!!! Lori suggested that I make communion wafers out of them and Josh complimented one while trying not to gag. I asked for saran wrap to cover my still full plate (the sugar cookies must have scared people from trying the peanut butter ones which weren’t that bad) at the end of the night, got home and threw them in the trash. I have never worked harder to produce absolutely no result.
I’m truly humbled. The verse “Pride come before the fall” laughs at me. The song “Humble thyself in the sight of the Lord” is stuck on repeat in my head. I kind of feel like God is laughing at me. Not in a mean I’ll-squish-you-like-a-bug-angry-Zeus kind of way, more like the boy that had a crush on you and didn’t know how to show it so he made fun of you kind of way. Where the intent behind the poking was well-intentioned but you don’t see it at the time. I feel like God and I are rarely on the same page lately, it’s like we are playing a cosmic game of phone tag and keep missing each other. Ha ha God, Tag you’re it!
