Pause

Don’t you just love how life will sometimes insert a “pause” into your busy-ness?

Of course, lots of times, as a mom, those pauses take the form of squabbling children, bee stings, sickoes, sudden spills, blood and gore, hospital runs. . .

Or, it could be “Ooh-look-at-this!”, silent concentration, sudden realizations, happy memories shared. . .

Pauses, no matter their causes ūüėČ ,¬†(though they may cause you to think your heart just fell a bazillion miles), seem to always be good things.¬† (Maybe not from the best of circumstances, but, in the end, good things.)

So, I got on Facebook Thursday evening.¬† (Yes, I have a Facebook account.¬† I’m “hi-P” like that. . .And Tyler is actually the one that gets on there and reads it daily and gives me a report as to what everyone is doing. . .but he doesn’t have his own account because he thinks it could be a “waste of my time”.)

As I was saying, I was informed that one of my oldest and dearest friends made a comment that led us to suspect she was in the area (as opposed to the other side of the continent where she lives).  Thus, an email was sent out asking if she was here for any length of time and would it be possible for us to get together.

She didn’t have much time, in fact the only time she had available was the day that Jay and I had determined to pack up our kitchen as he was on his only day off work before the demolition begins.¬† But, lovely lady that she is, she packed her kids up and traveled up here to spend a couple of hours.

She’s the one that looks like a fashion model, and I’m the dumpy one that looks¬†like she’d been packing the majority of¬†the morning.

I have an awesome picture of her family too, but I promised her teenage daughter that I would not post it anywhere. . .(I noticed her Mom made no such promise though. . .)

 At the end of the day, I felt great.  I had spent some time with a great friend and her fabulous family (and update my mental picture to adjust to the fact that the kids have indeed grown).  And I had gotten packing done.

Not as much as we were hoping for. . .and Jay was in fits.¬† He kept saying, “I need you to empty x-y-z so I can move it.”¬† To which I responded, “I need you to take the crib down in the guest room.”

Which led to the husbandly meltdown of a man trying to figure out what a crib in the guest room has to do with moving stuff out of the kitchen for the kitchen remodel. . .

And, any woman who currently¬†has her thinking cap on would be saying something along the lines of, “Ahh, she has a dedicated guest-room.¬† Which means, it probably does not serve a function when guests aren’t there.¬† Which means, if the crib were put away, then Christine would have SPACE in which to put all her kitchen stuff she is packing away!”

BINGO!

Somehow, that needs to be spelled out to the male members of our species. . .(Yet, my husband informs me that when it comes to actually moving items, that men just *know* how it needs to be done, and women need a detailed description of how to do it.)

By the time bed-time rolled around Jay was not feeling like the day had been productive.¬† I, on the other hand, saw how far we had gotten.¬† The man forgets that we have a teen-age son still at home and I don’t really “need” my darling man around to move furniture any more.

So, Tyler and I are going to be lugging big pieces of furniture today. . .

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s