This past Saturday the "scatterbrained, trying to do too much at once mother" struck again. I was busy making pies for the belated Thanksgiving meal we were having the next day. I had a pumpkin pie in the oven, a lemon meringue pie on the cupboard and half the ingredients in a bowl for chunky pecan pie bars. I should also mention that the kitchen looked like a heat seeking missile just hit it. So, while trying to make more room to get access to the microwave I moved the lemon meringue pie onto the top of the stove and went on with my next thing. I had started working on the meringue and realized that I had given myself too much time because the other pie was still in the oven. I thought I would be efficient and go walk over to the dorm while waiting and put up the sign for a movie night I was planning to have later that day. I know, I know...I need therapy! I got back from the short 5 minute walk and smelled something burning. I opened the stove to find the pumpkin pie just about done but not too dark. Perfect I thought to myself. BUT no sooner had I closed the door to the oven and stood up straight then I heard a strange sound. Later Linds (who was sitting reading in the living room this whole time) mentioned that it sounded like a large bag of marbles hitting our laminate floor. If only I could be so lucky. It was in fact the lemon meringue pie, or should I say the glass pie plate that was holding the pie. What I had not realized before was that I had set it on a burner that I had failed to turn off. The pie plate literally exploded in a million small pieces and glass went flying everywhere! Thankfully our children were down for nap/quiet time and I wasn't still bent over and wide eyed looking at the pie in the oven. It took us a good 1/2 hour to clean up the mess. I must say I love my calm, cool and collective husband. After about 15 minutes of my complaining about the unfortunate situation, how I had wasted money and time and made such a mess, I thanked Lindsay for being so calm about it all. He looked at me from behind the vacuum and said, "well compared how you act about this kind of stuff I think it's pretty easy to appear calm."
I must say I have always been bad at crying over spilled milk. I have been realizing a need to work on this lately and my, has God been giving me opportunities! I think I am making some progress though because this time I managed (with God's help) to not cry like Liam when he can't get on his jacket and I managed not to say anything I wouldn't want my children or my grandparents to hear me say. :) From the entire pitcher of orange juice on the floor last week to the exploding pie plate, I am in a frustrated state of learning how to slow down and relax. When these sort of things happen I tend to call myself down and go on and on about being an idiot or being really stupid. I joke about not being a brain surgeon but the real issue is learning to slow down and focus on what is really important so that I don't have to run around the kitchen like a recently beheaded chicken. I need to figure out that balance. I want to live somewhere between lazy and crazy busy. I know it exists and I am learning that if I take the time and work my will to put God as my centre, things more naturally balance out and I could probably say, "I was able to let God work through me and was able to bring him glory through this" instead of "I didn't think about God until a pie plate exploded in my kitchen and I needed help not swearing." Not to say that bad and frustrating things aren't going to happen but when God orders my steps I trust I would have the confidence that he is helping me and being my strength. Oh, so much to learn!
