Why small success? Because that’s the only kind I know! Even the big ones come in small steps. Here’s my paltry offering for the week.
- Baked two batches of brownies for softball opening day festivities and managed to get most of them to the field. All the corner pieces, ugly ones, and then some were consumed, but we still had plenty to bag and sell.
- Repaired Pooches. For at least a year, Pooches has waited patiently for me to set aside ten minutes for minor surgery. This well-loved monkey suffered from severe shoulder strain. He’s been restored to like-new condition and returned to his loving owner. Why did I put this off for so long?
- Cleaned the table and chairs with Murphy’s Oil Soap. This was LONG overdue. The milk streaks and petrified bits of food: gone.
- Helped pull a half million maple seedlings from the mulch. My husband designed and built this fantastic patio last year, replacing a boring, grassy area with flagstone and landscaping. Apparently our neighbor’s half-dead, behemoth maple tree likes it, too. Seedlings have sprouted all through ourmulched beds.
- Used laughter instead of irritation to deal with life’s messes.
On Tuesday, I turned my back on the open basement door for a few seconds to gather up recyclable containers from the sink to place in the bin. (Recycling is the bane of my existence.) In that time, the two-year-old started to descend the steps, clutching a bowl of snacks in each hand. He knocked over a couple of boxes that were waiting for someone to take them downstairs to the basement. Twenty snack-size salsa containers scattered on the landing. I shooed my son away and proceeded to crush the recyclables into the bin. Because of the salsa containers on the floor, I was in a precarious position to begin with. Then something gave way in the bin. My foot slipped from the step to the landing, crushing multiple packets. Tomatoes shot like a midgets from a cannon in every direction, splattering the door, the floor, the recycling bin, and my clothes. And I laughed, because really, what’s the alternative?
Yesterday, I took my laptop to Staples to be repaired. (The death throes began Sunday, followed in quick measure by a lifeless blue screen.) I waited at the counter with my two- and three-year-olds while an elderly lady, whom the staff all knew by name, sought help with her smart phone. The kids were great for a while, playing with a giant bin of fifty-cent gluestick packages. Then they got. . . squirrelly. My daughter started playing “hip hop scotch” on the carpet tiles while her brother loaded his pants then proceeded to chase her, open boxes of bandages, and play “Catch me if you can.” I abandoned the laptop to an expensive diagnostic appointment and took the kids to the restroom, which, of course, did not have a changing table. Nor did I have any wipes. While I changed my son’s diaper on the tile floor using only toilet paper, my daughter took advantage of the room’s acoustics to scream “Echo from the toilet! Echo from the trash can!” and so on. I laughed because, frankly, it was hysterical.
That’s all I’ve got. Celebrate more small successes over at CatholicMom.com.
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