Charming Baby examined the plastic ice cube trays as if I had brought home some interesting fossils.
“What are these for, Mom?”
“They’re ice cube trays!”
“Why do we need special trays to carry our ice?”
“They are for making ice! The automatic ice maker is broken, so we’ll use these instead.”
He was fascinated, and asked if he could be the one to fill up the trays and put them in the freezer. He kept checking on them all afternoon, reporting on the progress. At one point he said, “Dad is going to be so happy we made ice for him!"
Can we just freeze everything right here?
As luck would have it, the dishwasher then broke, so I have been doing all the dishes by hand this past week, too. At first I was on the phone pushing the appliance repair guys to hurry up and save me and then I realized no one in upstate New York cares if you are left washing your own dishes or making your own ice.
I found a therapeutic rhythm to my evenings. Why is it so incredibly satisfying to clean up an entire kitchen? Have I gone completely mad rattling around this old house? I even love vacuuming up the floor at the very end, clearing away all the dirt that has been dragged in and crumbs that were carelessly dropped. Maybe it is taking something from a mess to spotless, all while enjoying a glass of wine, that feels like an accomplishment.
Or, it could be knowing that if I can manage the 300 square-foot heart of our home, no matter what breaks down, I can somehow handle the rest of it all. I am on guard these days as the boys race towards independence and maturity. They need me less in many ways and so much more in others. One day I am scheduling play dates, the next I'm supervising e-mails and texts. I can’t freeze time or wash away problems but I can be there, with plastic trays and rubber gloves, making sure nothing gets the best of us.
No comments:
Post a Comment