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My son loves to help me cook.  I set him in a big chair in the kitchen and let him stir, season, and pour.  There are several great things about this.  First, we are spending time together, which is great.  Also, he is learning to cook and measure, also good.  This occurs after nap time, when he is most fussy, so it puts him in a better mood.  It also eats up time between nap and when dad gets home, which is the hardest part of the day for me.  I get to cook dinner without him fussing from the living room that he needs attention.  And, it gets him more interested in what we are eating for dinner, which makes him more likely to actually eat it.  Plus, he feels really proud of himself.  And, he’s a really cute little helper.

Costco, what a great place. I know people joke about huge vats of olive oil and gallon jugs of ketchup, but it is a great place to find bulk items for a good deal. I go there mostly for diaper and wipes for my babies, but also for toilet paper, frozen food and fruit. My husband couldn’t care less about the k deals. He goes for one reason, free samples. We are only allowed to go on weekends and only after 11 am when they start serving free samples of their food. If you read our Sweet Tomatoes adventure then you can guess how this turns out. He goes into his ‘hunter/gatherer’ mode trying to get all the free samples he can. He’ll go back 2,3, or even 4 times to the same one to get more. If he really likes it, he’ll send me to get more. Of course, sometimes the sample booths run out while they are cooking more, which makes him crazy. He circles the booth likes he’s stalking prey until they put out more, and then he has no problem stepping over a small child or nudging an old lady to get the first hot sample. He always leaves Cosco with a full belly and a big smile.

With the letdown of the cast staying on for 2 more weeks, I began to think about why we are in the situation.  If I work off the theory that all events are meant to teach us something, then what am I supposed to learn from this?  What is my lesson?

It seems that everyone these days writes a tell all book or memoir.  When I look back, what would my book say?  I am writing, that is to say, living, the great American novel.  What does it say?  Is it a tragedy, a book filled with regret, sorrow, anger?  Or, am I writing a book of triumph, of hope; a love story.  I want my life to be a story of happiness, fullfillment, of gratitiude.  I want my story to be an epistle, letters filled with God’s gifts in my life.  So, what is the lesson?  This cast does not define my life, it is but a paragraph burried in chapter 25.  In the same way, I cannot let myself be comsumed by everyday things that bring sadness, anger, or frustration into my life.  My novel will not include those things.  I will rise above.  I will focus on the gifts in my life.  I will write a story…of love.