Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...Enjoy the Hell Out of It

4 years ago

I slept until 11:00 AM today. I swear on the kids lives I did. It was awesome. The best part? I had a hot cup of coffee on my nightstand waiting for me. I kid you not. The only thing that could have made the morning any better would have been waking up at 11:00 AM, being seduced by The Big Guy....on a secluded island, french doors of our luxurious suite open wide, the sheer curtains blowing in the wind, and the sound of the ocean making this 11:00 AM wake up call the most sensual experience of my life. But beggars can't be choosers.

I will take the 11:00 AM wake up with a side of hot coffee and run...

The downside to sleeping in as long as I did was the realization that I was immediately being thrown into watching a movie with The Big Guy and the three little kids. We had promised them that we would hang out and watch a movie after breakfast. Hot coffee next to you is awesome when you wake up. But chugging a cup of it is not possible (at least for me) and movie time began before I was fully functional, the sand from the sandman still lodged into the corner of my eyes.

"Mommy look." Diva whispered to me from the floor. I looked and she fanned the paper on the small notebook she was holding. She was smiling, so proud of accomplishment. She had just figured out how to fan the paper the correct way. I smiled, told her good job and her attention went back to the movie. I sat there for a few moments, watching her. Her eyes were focused on the television, while she continued to fan the notebook.

Why is it always the smallest things that turn into the most awesome things?

I am not a jealous person. I am happier for what others accomplish than I am for myself. I trust The Big Guy and the strength of our relationship. I am not a jealous person EXCEPT for one thing: the attention, praise and God-like celebrity status The Big Guy gets when he decides to cook the kids a big, buffet rivaling, breakfast.

I would consider myself a pretty excellent cook. I have a running list of foods and sauces I have perfected, that would be menu items for the pretend restaurant I have designed in my head. I have also designed the perfect food truck but my cooking would not pair well with one. The day I become a multimillionaire, both my restaurant and food truck ideas will become reality. In the meantime, I spent my days cooking from scratch, sauces and dishes to feed the six, sometimes, harsh food critics that happen to live in my house.

It is a tough job, one in which I have taken the time to turn savory, non kid-friendly dishes into ones the kids would enjoy. The thing is, most nights, two of the five will like the food, one of the kids, that will not eat ANYTHING, will be making himself a peanut butter sandwich, one will force himself to eat it because he doesn't want to hurt my feelings, Diva will go into an emotional tailspin and end up with a Z Bar and yogurt as her meal and The Big Guy ends up eating at 9:45 PM, after basketball practices are finally over and the food was reheated to a warm, but not hot status. Bottom line being, I cook for hours, no one really enjoys it, I internalize how pissed off I get at the ungrateful nature of the kids and finally become jealous when God (aka The Big Guy) makes a breakfast for them every few months.

This morning, while I slept, God woke up early, went to the grocery store and returned with the necessities to prepare his mini buffet. This morning, while I slept, God once again rose to the level of super celebrity, while the kids bowed down to his food and filled their bellies...to the point that at 1:30 PM, they are laying around, still full from breakfast.

Really God?

I make chicken pot pie from scratch, roasted chicken, steaks, pastas, whatever and the kids are DYING from hunger forty five minutes later. God cooks and hours later the kids areDYING because they are so full...

"Mommy look!" Diva excitedly yells from the kitchen. I look and out she comes, having finally mastered the art of hopping on one foot for more than three steps. She was hysterical, the smile on her face was literally stretching ear to ear. Eventually the laughter overtook her balance and she tumbled to the ground in a heap of laughter. "Oh my gosh my belly hurts. I love when [The Big Guy] cooks for us. Wasn't it nice he let you sleep and did your job for you? That is nice to do for Mommy's. Right Mommy?"

 Why is it always the smallest things that turn into the most awesome things?

"You're right." I said. And she was. Instantly, my jealousy toward God disappeared.

Why is it always the smallest things that turn into the most awesome things?

Because it's the little things that make the memories. God cooking a mini buffet every once in awhile is a big, awesome deal to the kids. Seeing the smile on Diva's face when she accomplishes the littlest of tasks will forever be a smile that I remember.

 I guess the saying is right. Don't sweat the small stuff...enjoy the hell out of it.

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