I was kind of intending to savor those bananas foster for the entire duration of me sitting down and writing tonight. But, there they are. All gone. And I haven’t even written a word yet. For some reason I had a strong urge for the buttery sweetness of bananas foster, minus the rum, and they were absolutely delicious. Maple syrup, real butter, raw walnuts, and a dash of cinnimon. Yes, please.
This morning began bright and early, or rather dark and early. It’s been lovely to get up before anyone else and have some quiet time and prayer time and business time before delving into my mama-ing duties. Thankful for the inspiration and nudge of my friend to get up and pray together, via technology, before anything else.
Once everyone got up and we started our day, it sort of morphed into a home-ec morning of scrubbing the kitchen and preparing dinner together. I knew our afternoon was going to be very full and we would come home hungry, and I was determined NOT to start cooking dinner at 5 or 6 o’clock like I’ve done way too many times. So, into my handy-dandy instant pot (insert choir singing) went the sumptuous ingredients for beef stew. We read about Esau trading his birthright for a bowl of stew, and wondered if this stew would taste anything like Jacob’s of old.
At exactly the time we were hoping to leave, we got into the van and made our way an hour West to the new holistic dentist we found a few months ago. We had such a great experience with him when Elsie had a dental emergency… which turned out to be not as big of a deal as I thought. We were a few hundred yards away from the office, making a left turn at a light, when Oceanus sputtered and felt like she’d stall out. It was a busy enough intersection I didn’t want to risk trying to pull out and get broadsided if we didn’t make it the whole way through. Instinct told me to not even try, and to hop out and ask the person behind me to please push us through at the next green light. I’m not even sure he spoke English, but I guess he got the gist when Nadine and Elijah hopped out and took their stance behind the van. Reason 1,567 I love having a stick shift. Makes situations like this so much easier! And yes, I’ve been in this situation a few times. We had just the right amount of downhill, so it wasn’t difficult to make it through and down the street towards the office. At that point, the kids were running behind the van while I steered it towards the building. With an ever-s0-slight uphill into the parking lot, I barely had enough oomph to land, right in-between two parking spots. I looked like the obsessive owner of a very old Eurovan, with many scratches, but not willing to have anyone park near me in case of one more. It was raining.
Our time in the office was great. All three hours. The one hygienist was so sweet and drove me over to a gas station so I could get some gasoline in a can to bring back. So yes, I left four children in the waiting room and one in the cleaning chair to drive with a stranger to get some gas. I’m so glad to add to our growing collection of gas cans. I think we have six now.
As I got a small shower in the rain, I was able to give Oceanus what she was dying to have, and she started right up. The reason this has happened more than twice, is because of a broken gas gauge. I do zero it out each time she is filled up, but for some reason I didn’t pay attention that the mileage was way over 400, which is my signal: It’s time to Fill. Her. Up. Back into the office I went, reeking like a gas pump.
No cavities for anyone, which was a huge exclamation point in an afternoon which seemed to want to rain sad-face emojis all over the place. Yet, I wasn’t sad one bit. Kind of exhilarated and thankful. Thankful we ran out of gas in a safe place within walking distance to our destination. Thankful for kind people. Thankful for strong kiddos. Thankful for gas money. Thankful it was indeed just running out of gas, and nothing more serious. When one fills their tank, and the total amount pumped reads 21 gallons, in a 21-gallon tank… one is thankful.
I’m so thankful to have made it home safely. To a clean kitchen and hot supper. The consensus is still out as to whether it was birthright-tradable, but everyone agrees it was pretty smackingly delicious.
Baby Chip is doing his nightly antics in my belly. I think he enjoyed the bananas foster just as much as I did. The lady at the gas station took one look at me and said: “You’re having a boy, right?” She was so very confident. I told her yes, and how did she know? She just smiled and said it was the way I was carrying him. A couple of weeks ago another friend’s two-year-old son pointed at my belly and said, “Ball!” Thirty-three weeks tomorrow, and oh-so-thankful for the ability to carry another child into this world. It is not something I take for granted.
Now I’m excited to lay down in one of my two comfortable positions and rest. There are so many more things to remember and write, but they will have to wait. Tonight I was pondering the motto of my life. A motto given to me by the Lord when I was just a teenager. Life is beautiful. This is what I look for in every circumstance, every day. I don’t have to pretend. My life truly is beautiful. Empty gas tanks and all.