“Sunburst” in my Kitchen
It was one of those remarkable “sunburst” moments. As I passed the kitchen table yesterday, I made a mental note to refill the wire-rimmed napkin basket (hang on; no “sunburst” quite yet). This brain “jotting” landed at the bottom of a list that included buying bananas, organizing tax documents, wiping Lily’s nose prints off of the backyard windows and finishing the family chore chart so that I can be a kinder, gentler and more consistent delegator of duties. Thereby remembering to assign window cleaning to one of the kids, leaving me free to buy the bananas. Or something like that…
Last night however, when I glanced at the kitchen table with the vague memory that it needed something besides dinner for four, the basket was filled. Stunned, I walked over to touch the neat little stack. Napkins. I hadn’t asked anyone to put them there. The astonishing event had happened entirely without me.
Rays of light all over the place…
The next morning I asked Zach about his upcoming day as we watched out the kitchen window for his ride to school. And as I sipped my coffee, I noticed my son absently gather the remains of my artificial sweetener packet from the counter and toss it into the trashcan. Let me be clear. There were no meaningful mom glances toward the counter-top. The conversation hadn’t even tipped slightly toward my struggles to keep up with three kids, a dog, and the whole rest of my life. The helpful action appeared absolutely instinctive on his part. “Sunburst” all over again…
I’m seeing a pattern here. And it’s a very good thing…
As a single mom, I often feel that the world doesn’t even begin its daily spin unless I give it a nudge in the morning. If a light bulb burns out, we live in darkness until I map out a replacement plan (which generally involves a ladder and tall teen-age son). An empty chocolate milk bottle leads to mass suffering and calcium/chocolate dietary deficiencies for all until I make a grocery run. “No clean socks” today means “no clean socks” tomorrow unless I run the washer (and there’s this more recent corollary: placing clean socks in my bedroom drawer does not guarantee their continued presence if my daughter has track practice that afternoon).
And yet…
Sometimes, when I’m thinking that the waste containers are getting a little too full, they snap back to “empty” in my absence. The dishwasher occasionally runs all by itself. The newspaper seemingly flies from driveway to kitchen counter on many mornings, landing next to the stack of mail that magically appeared the day before.
Without me! That makes me smile. For the time being, I’m still buying the bananas and chocolate milk. Zach can’t drive to the grocery without my helpful intoning (“The guardrail! Bus! That light’s about to turn yellow!”) for at least another couple of months.
But my napkin basket is overflowing, and that’s a download of love that brightens my world more than replacing a few burnt out ceiling lights ever could.
RELATED POSTS:
“Journey to Sixteen: My Son Zach”
“Taking the Long Way (On the Blue Ridge Parkway)…” Part One
|
|
|
|
|
 |
That’s a sweet one, Hedder.
Just wait…soon, they’ll be off to college…getting married and having babies…WITHOUT YOU.
That can be a good thing and a hard thing both.
c-
im always up for a good laugh btw i love the cloud pic i admit i stole it from ya for my collection lol
This post is so lovely. It’s encouraging to hear about kids stepping up and doing their part.
I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Loved it. Us women are so easily pleased. It really is the little things that matter.
Very nice.
And men are just as easily pleased. After breakfast this morning my middle boy cleaned up a lot of the dishes without any prompting (he didn’t get them all … but it’s a start).
Sweet, Heather! Yes, it’s the little things that add up each day that can make all the difference in the world… Sunburst! …
Thank you Chuck, aka “The Voice of Experience”. Sigh. I know…I already miss the little fingerprints on my windows. Probably why I got Lily!
Nyte,
Glad you liked the cloud! Like snowflakes, they’re never the same. I took that shot on a Virgin Gorda beach in 2003.
SoapBox Mom,
It kind of hits you at two levels, doesn’t it? As an act of love/respect that warms your heart paired with the wonderful realization that maybe our kids have been listening to what we say!!
Suzanne,
Love truly lies in “the details”.
BTW, we have a full-blown blizzard going here!
Delmer,
Sounds like a good start! Now, if you can just teach them to keep track of your car keys…
SF Girl,
Thanks Nina! Makes me hope I “surprised” my own mom from time to time…
Enjoyed reading your newest blogs and looking at all the lovely pictures. Keep up the great work.
Thank you NyteGoddessBoo!
What a beautiful post, Heather! I raised my kids alone for nine years and know what you mean about budgeting mom time. I dragged my kids to college and life became a zoo with juggling full-time classes, working part-time and caring for the kids. My children rallied behind me too. Except for the occasional boiled egg on the ceiling, we made out okay. My children are grown now and very responsible.
Hugs, JJ
Wow JJ! I always appreciate your positive attitude when I read your posts. What a great gift you’ve given your kids with your approach to life!!
Thank you, Heather.
My kids are grown but we talk almost every day by phone. They live five hundred miles away. We see each other during the holidays but that constant connection we have keeps us happy.
Have a super evening!!!
Hugs, JJ
It looks like you get alot of visitors, that is great. I can see why.. Your posts are cool. Seems like you have built a good repor.. later gator.. Colorado Baby Cares
Colorado Baby,
Thanks for the kind comments! I’m just back from a much needed vacation, so sorry for the delay in responding. I’m off to check out your site now!