This is my fourth cup of coffee. Don’t worry I haven’t actually drank that much. I’m a chronic leaver of half full cups. And since I don’t suffer well I can’t stand to drink coffee that I don’t absolutely love. If its cold and the cream has formed solid cloud like figures at the top we’re done. And this is probably an ok time to announce my fear of microwaves. I have to be pretty darn desperate to reheat my coffee in the same contraption I used to warm Otto’s bean and cheese burritos. Desperate I tell you (I’m wrapping it up, promise). This brings me to right now my fourth and fingers crossed last cup of coffee for the day. It is piping hot swirled with my simple syrup and a mound of Redi-whip cream. I have found joy. As I get older and ease more and more into the role of Mother and Wife and responsible adult I find it’s the simple things that bring me the most joy. Cliche’, I know. But you know how I feel about those: Truth that stood the test of time. I’m not sure why but the last two Tuesdays have felt more like an irritating Monday or a tiresome Friday. As soon as I was done posting on Tuesday about the virtue of being right as compared to being happy I proceeded to act like a complete ass. That’s right. I demanded to be right. It was my day and everyone was out to ruin it for me. The only timeline was mine. The only car on the road that mattered? You guessed it, mine. So you see, God has a sense of humor and timing and the moment I start to judge something or someone I get the opportunity to walk through that very circumstance or mind-set. This is an ugly sort of beautiful humbling experience. The ugly part is watching myself in the rear view mirror as my jaw clenches and the lead foot takes hold. The beautiful part, calling my sponsor in the morning and laying it all out there. I don’t know that I can achieve true humility in this skin sack, I might have to wait till the great Coffee Shop in the sky for that. I believe the best I can do in this moment is to try. A continual practice of trying. However, Tuesday between the hours of 10 am and 3 :45 pm be glad we live far away from each other. Not pretty in the least.
This story has a redeeming note. Tuesday afternoon at about 4 pm I got a do over. We had to run out for prescriptions and I decided to take full advantage of having the boys strapped down for 15 minutes. I plugged in my phone, typed: C-h-i-s-t-mas. Pandora gets me. Bing Crosby instantly fills the cold silver bullet with warmth. Suddenly I’m in Vermont. Joy. We sang along as best we could. Suddenly we found ourselves in a drive thru. It was a marvelous place, filled with helpful staff who say things like, “excellent” and “perfect” when you order things. Simple & cheap things like water and drip coffee. They wear ‘remotes’ on their heads and make everything feel special. Yes, the lovely folks at Starbucks helped save my Tuesday. It was at Rite Aid though that the game changed. As the boys and I waited for our prescription to be filled we found the most amazing thing; Christmas decor Aisle A3. There were red and gold and sparkly things on either side of us. There were life-sized nutcrackers and friendly Snowmen for company. They were nativity scenes, which apparently aren’t extinct and candy cane stripped stockings. Our favorite things happened to sing, duh. One in particular was a plastic branch with matching red Cardinals attached. You pushed the button hidden beneath some painted on glitter and snow and they chirped Christmas tunes. It was loud. Obnoxiously loud. People near by gave looks. Some even made their way around the corner just to peek at who-in-the-world-is-doing-that-agian?! You know this didn’t stop us one bit. You have to know that I had gone most of the day without really laughing and in this moment all was right. Hobbs’s legs bounced wildly out the peep holes of the cart, Otto’s eyes widened when he realized he knew the songs. We must’ve pushed that button 10 times, do-overs. Finding joy in Aisle A3.
Most of the time I don’t need to buy myself a coffee or run to the nearest box store for joy, just as well I don’t run to the bottle of wine or the nearest bar either. It’s an inside job. However, I have a forgetter for a brain and I need to be reminded. sometimes. I need singing birds and friendly staff to help me remember that there’s something to smile about. That it’s not all about me. It’s about them and its about you. It’s about us. We all have access to joy and do overs- they are yours for the taking. You choose. What is it that brings you joy? And there is no limit to the amount of do-overs in one day. So have at it. Wishing you all a very Merry Ch-Halloween! I’ll be wearing this:
P.S To the Christmas cynics, it might be best if we part ways till 12-25-13. Its only going to get worse from here on out