A Perfect Day: Confessions of a Lazy Perfectionist
Late Thursday morning, even though it had snowed hard just two days before (on the first day of Spring, ironically), the snow had melted, the sun was out, the skies were blue, the birds were chirping, distant lawn mowers were buzzing, Justin was working on the Suburban, the boys were gleefully running amok in the yard, and the air was sweet. It was a gorgeous day. I was full-on, knee-deep, in the middle of a project: cleaning and organizing the bathroom closet, which hadn't been cleaned in approximately six years, give or take. I try to clean closets every decade or so, whether it's needed or not. Eh-hem. When I get going on a mission, I don't like to stop till it's done. It takes me so long to work up the motivation to clean that, once I get going, interruptions just frustrate me. I don't stop until the job is complete and/or my children start complaining that we have skipped two meals and that they do, in fact, need to eat at some point, preferably in the near future. I like to think of myself as an impulsive, fun, carefree person. And then I realize it's not healthy to lie to oneself. I have to admit that I prefer ample notice for......everything. I like to write out a big calendar with the coming month's events. If I don't do it right, by golly, we just don't have a calendar for that month. I like to make lists. If one thing on my list doesn't go as planned, I tend to just scratch the whole thing, and start over.....or just plain quit. I have a lazy streak, along with a perfectionist personality. It's hard to strike a balance between the two extremes....so usually I am just lazy. That one is much easier to accomplish perfectly, you see. But I still don't like sudden changes, so when, in the middle of my sorting and cleaning, my incredibly handsome and sweet husband told me that we were going to go on a fishing trip, I got a little grumpy. I said some grumpy words...... and kept right on cleaning, figuring I'd start getting the kids ready when I was finished. A few minutes later, I overheard the kids saying that Daddy was taking us to the mountains. WHAT?! I had thought Daddy was just taking us to a local fishing hole for a few minutes! A trip to the mountains meant I would have to pack a bag of dry, warm clothes, towels, a first aid kit, sunscreen, and bug repellant. It meant I would need to prepare for any possible disasters that might arise in the wilderness, such as snake bites, killer bee strings, deep gashes, broken bones, dehydration, hypothermia, and/or starvation. It meant I would have to stop my project before completion (gasp!), and dress the kids in double layers because it would still be FREEZING up there, as it had just snowed two days before. Daddy had put their winter coats up in the attic last month, without consulting Mommy. The nerve. And my closet wasn't clean yet. All of this frustration I expressed very calmly and lovingly to my husband.....in some alternate, fluffy, cotton candy & fairy-dust reality. However, in this reality, I was.....not so much sweet. After all, the kids were going to freeze! And my closet wasn't clean! Did I mention that my closet wasn't clean? Nonetheless, I stopped working on my project, packed a large-ish bag of necessities, layered the children against imminent death-by-freezing, and loaded everyone up into the car.
On the drive, my mood cheered considerably, as I looked in the back seat and saw all these cute little faces and realized that I was going to be able to spend the whole day with all of them, and with my handsome husband, without the distraction of IPhones, computers, school, work......or cleaning closets.
There was fishing, digging in the sand, roasting hot dogs......
there was removal of clothing layers, as we all started sweating in the warmth of the sun.....
........which is why you see Micah wearing his long johns and not pants.
As you can see, there was some snow on the mountains, but not near us. I regretted my black thermal shirt and lack of flip-flops on my Hobbit feet. (And I hadn't even thought to prepare for heat stroke. What was I thinking?!) I regretted my previously grumpy attitude and rude words. My thoughtful husband only made one well-deserved comment about how cold he was and how good it was that I had dressed everyone in all those layers.
Isaac caught his first fishy with Daddy's help.......and it scared the living tar out of him. He tried to wiggle away almost as much as the fish did. As it was pulled, fighting and splashing, out of the water, I'm pretty sure that Isaac thought it was coming to get him.
"What the heck is that thing?! Daddy?"
On the ride home, we saw several gorgeous deer wandering the hillsides.
I think the boys' favorite part of the trip was when Justin showed them how to gut and clean the fish. I will never fully understand why. Ew. Poor fishies. I think Isaac saw it as justice for the fright they had given him.
So, even though I didn't get to finish my closet (and it is still waiting to be cleaned while I do more important things, such as blog about how I'm not cleaning), even though I had over-packed and had extra "putting-away" to do when I got home, and even though I came home with a sunburn....I was reminded of some very important things. Number one: I am a brat and I seriously need to take a chill pill once in a while. Number two: I am so ridiculously blessed with the most amazing husband, who loves to spend time with his boys & his wife. Number three: Next time I should pack swimming trunks & snorkel gear for everyone, along with their long johns and sweats. One can never be too prepared. Oh. Wait. Yes. They can.