Ah...
Ever have one of those days that has no major thrills, but leaves you feeling like all's right with the world? Like all other days, today was one the Lord had made. Unlike my responses to some other days, however, I rejoiced in this one.
It was as if the Lord had pre-stamped it "For Your Pleasure, Zoanna."
I woke up under a freshly laundered quilt after a restful night's sleep. My husband was already gone. He is so politely quiet in the mornings that I often never hear him! But the scent of his cologne lingered in the bedroom and I looked forward to seeing him this evening.
The next pleasantry was Joel's little musical voice. He was standing next to my bed saying, "See?" while showing me that he had already put on "undawear"--the pair with soccer balls that matched the soccer ball on his shirt. I reached up and stroked his whipped-cream cheeks. I always marvel at God's design of skin. No one could manufacture something that soft, that smooth, and that sensational.
I then saw my beautiful Sarah. She was wearing a light blue Florida T-shirt that makes her greyish-blue green eyes look like pure pools. She was smiling about something Joel had said.
More trivial treasures made me happy when I came downstairs. My morning brew of coffee with hazelnut creamer and a dash of cinnamon. A bright red cardinal flying strong and steady from the willow to the maple. (I remembered the day I asked the Lord to show Himself real to me, that I was in such despair that all I had was head knowledge that He was with me. And as soon as I had finished asking, a blood red male cardinal appeared on a nearby branch of a tree in my backyard. I blinked back tears that morning:"Jesus, You DO care. I am so sorry I doubted You. You didn't have to show me a tangible sign of your love, but You did!" Ah, blessed day.)
My best friend and husband of 18 years called me from work at 10:45 to check in and to see if the kids were up. Three out of four were. After all these years , the sound of Paul's voice still makes me feel warm and sometimes tingly.
My 6'6" seventeen year old asked me to rub that fake tan stuff on his back. It actually looks pretty good. I was happy for an excuse to touch him. He inherited his dad's great skin like Joel's. I am dwarfed next to him and can barely reach the back of his neck with the lotion.
He reminds me it doesn't look as natural as a real suntan, and I say of course not, but pretty close.
I prepare some oatmeal with brown sugar and milk and leave the oatmeal box on the counter to pour Joel a drink of milk. Stephen emerges from bed, shuffles around the kitchen, asks if I plan to put the oatmeal box away. I realize he is becoming neater than he used to be. Yesterday he cleaned his room from bow to stern. Ah, blessed day.
In the early afternoon I decide to clean our bedroom. It really needs it, and it blesses my husband who craves order and serenity after a pressurized day in an overloaded cubicle. Put clean flannel sheets on, organize some clutter, put folded towels away, vacuum the cream carpet. All this while listening, for a big change, to country music. I tune in to it maybe four times a year. And after enjoying some cleverly twisted phrases and memorable twangs from Tennessee, I thank God I've never had a cheatin' man.
Clean bedroom. Faithful husband with a great voice. I decide to email him:
"This is me asking you for a date tonight.
You pick the restaurant, I'll pick the car.
I kind of like the Avalon. This chick likes hot cars."
He emails me back:
"Got coupons for Friday's?
I want to run first. If we take the Avalon,
you'll have to walk farther."
I smile. My dear hubby, always thrift-conscious, health conscious, and now car conscious.
At 4:00 I take Joel to my favorite store, Ross. Not only is it a great place to shop for dishes and clothes, it's got Spiderman toys and noisy cars and trucks way back in the corner. Joel warns me to be careful when touching dishes. I wonder, "Why? Will I break them or buy them?" We head to the toy aisle. I want to get him a puzzle or something educational while the other kids are "doing school." We settle on a zig-zaggy, four-car racing ramp. He is taking a shine to the little girl who's looking at pink dolls in the same aisle. He shows her a Spiderman puzzle. "Cool, " she says, and he wants to stay at the store the rest of the day. I tell him it's time to go home and see Daddy. He dashes a few feet away. The little girl's mother snickers knowingly. I remind Joel calmly what happened yesterday at Judah and Tucker's house.
"You have a choice, Joel. Obey and keep the racing toy, or disobey and have to put it back on the shelf. It's up to you, but either way we will go home now. " He considered the options. He looked at the race ramp. He obeyed.
"You made a good choice, Joel. Mommy and Jesus are happy with that choice." He grinned. Ah, maturity.
Home from Ross, I find Sarah chopping cucumbers into a big purple bowl of olive-oiled noodles. She is cooking from memory the recipe for Sandy Browne's pasta salad that Sandy took to their church picnic when we visited. Sarah is making one for our family and one for our church picnic. I have such appreciation for this girl who's at home on the range, so to speak. She's tending burgers on the grill and drizzling Lite Caesar dressing over the swirly pasta.
I get Joel interested in his racing ramp in the basement and then head out the door with my date. I had a great time with Paul over a meal of Sizzling Jalapeno Fajitas. I picked at his Cajun Chicken with Shrimp and Pasta. He picked--and picked more--at my fajitas. Both entrees were phenomenal. He saw someone we recognized from church on a date with a wife I didn't know he had. Paul knew of their wedding but I missed it? That's rare. But they looked happy. The platinum band on that guy's hand looked good. I love wedding bands on men. One of my favorite things in this life is to see men wearing them .
Paul tipped a little heavy (something I've always encouraged after being a waitress myself) and plunked the coupon proudly down with it. We told the server how wonderful the meal was and only wished it came with four, not three, tortillas. She agreed. We thanked her and left.
He opened my car door as usual. Queen in khakis, that's me.
We drove home in his new Toy. I smiled when he pushed back the moonroof. He looked like the little boy in "Christmas Story" tearing the wrapping paper off his much-anticipated new BB gun. He said, "I always wanted to do that!"
Then he asked where I wanted to go next. I suggested the petting zoo by the vet's place on Tollgate Road. He suggested Home Depot. "For paint samples, " he said, quickly redeeming the manly suggestion. He's goooood! He was thinking practical (we need light bulbs) but remembered I want him to paint our dining room yet this summer. (My idea of romance is watching him paint the color I've chosen.)
"Or we could just go home and talk in the driveway and watch the stars through the moonroof, " I said.
And that's what we did. Except that we got a third wheel who also wanted to hug Daddy in the new car. Ah, maturity.
Ah, blessed day.
It was as if the Lord had pre-stamped it "For Your Pleasure, Zoanna."
I woke up under a freshly laundered quilt after a restful night's sleep. My husband was already gone. He is so politely quiet in the mornings that I often never hear him! But the scent of his cologne lingered in the bedroom and I looked forward to seeing him this evening.
The next pleasantry was Joel's little musical voice. He was standing next to my bed saying, "See?" while showing me that he had already put on "undawear"--the pair with soccer balls that matched the soccer ball on his shirt. I reached up and stroked his whipped-cream cheeks. I always marvel at God's design of skin. No one could manufacture something that soft, that smooth, and that sensational.
I then saw my beautiful Sarah. She was wearing a light blue Florida T-shirt that makes her greyish-blue green eyes look like pure pools. She was smiling about something Joel had said.
More trivial treasures made me happy when I came downstairs. My morning brew of coffee with hazelnut creamer and a dash of cinnamon. A bright red cardinal flying strong and steady from the willow to the maple. (I remembered the day I asked the Lord to show Himself real to me, that I was in such despair that all I had was head knowledge that He was with me. And as soon as I had finished asking, a blood red male cardinal appeared on a nearby branch of a tree in my backyard. I blinked back tears that morning:"Jesus, You DO care. I am so sorry I doubted You. You didn't have to show me a tangible sign of your love, but You did!" Ah, blessed day.)
My best friend and husband of 18 years called me from work at 10:45 to check in and to see if the kids were up. Three out of four were. After all these years , the sound of Paul's voice still makes me feel warm and sometimes tingly.
My 6'6" seventeen year old asked me to rub that fake tan stuff on his back. It actually looks pretty good. I was happy for an excuse to touch him. He inherited his dad's great skin like Joel's. I am dwarfed next to him and can barely reach the back of his neck with the lotion.
He reminds me it doesn't look as natural as a real suntan, and I say of course not, but pretty close.
I prepare some oatmeal with brown sugar and milk and leave the oatmeal box on the counter to pour Joel a drink of milk. Stephen emerges from bed, shuffles around the kitchen, asks if I plan to put the oatmeal box away. I realize he is becoming neater than he used to be. Yesterday he cleaned his room from bow to stern. Ah, blessed day.
In the early afternoon I decide to clean our bedroom. It really needs it, and it blesses my husband who craves order and serenity after a pressurized day in an overloaded cubicle. Put clean flannel sheets on, organize some clutter, put folded towels away, vacuum the cream carpet. All this while listening, for a big change, to country music. I tune in to it maybe four times a year. And after enjoying some cleverly twisted phrases and memorable twangs from Tennessee, I thank God I've never had a cheatin' man.
Clean bedroom. Faithful husband with a great voice. I decide to email him:
"This is me asking you for a date tonight.
You pick the restaurant, I'll pick the car.
I kind of like the Avalon. This chick likes hot cars."
He emails me back:
"Got coupons for Friday's?
I want to run first. If we take the Avalon,
you'll have to walk farther."
I smile. My dear hubby, always thrift-conscious, health conscious, and now car conscious.
At 4:00 I take Joel to my favorite store, Ross. Not only is it a great place to shop for dishes and clothes, it's got Spiderman toys and noisy cars and trucks way back in the corner. Joel warns me to be careful when touching dishes. I wonder, "Why? Will I break them or buy them?" We head to the toy aisle. I want to get him a puzzle or something educational while the other kids are "doing school." We settle on a zig-zaggy, four-car racing ramp. He is taking a shine to the little girl who's looking at pink dolls in the same aisle. He shows her a Spiderman puzzle. "Cool, " she says, and he wants to stay at the store the rest of the day. I tell him it's time to go home and see Daddy. He dashes a few feet away. The little girl's mother snickers knowingly. I remind Joel calmly what happened yesterday at Judah and Tucker's house.
"You have a choice, Joel. Obey and keep the racing toy, or disobey and have to put it back on the shelf. It's up to you, but either way we will go home now. " He considered the options. He looked at the race ramp. He obeyed.
"You made a good choice, Joel. Mommy and Jesus are happy with that choice." He grinned. Ah, maturity.
Home from Ross, I find Sarah chopping cucumbers into a big purple bowl of olive-oiled noodles. She is cooking from memory the recipe for Sandy Browne's pasta salad that Sandy took to their church picnic when we visited. Sarah is making one for our family and one for our church picnic. I have such appreciation for this girl who's at home on the range, so to speak. She's tending burgers on the grill and drizzling Lite Caesar dressing over the swirly pasta.
I get Joel interested in his racing ramp in the basement and then head out the door with my date. I had a great time with Paul over a meal of Sizzling Jalapeno Fajitas. I picked at his Cajun Chicken with Shrimp and Pasta. He picked--and picked more--at my fajitas. Both entrees were phenomenal. He saw someone we recognized from church on a date with a wife I didn't know he had. Paul knew of their wedding but I missed it? That's rare. But they looked happy. The platinum band on that guy's hand looked good. I love wedding bands on men. One of my favorite things in this life is to see men wearing them .
Paul tipped a little heavy (something I've always encouraged after being a waitress myself) and plunked the coupon proudly down with it. We told the server how wonderful the meal was and only wished it came with four, not three, tortillas. She agreed. We thanked her and left.
He opened my car door as usual. Queen in khakis, that's me.
We drove home in his new Toy. I smiled when he pushed back the moonroof. He looked like the little boy in "Christmas Story" tearing the wrapping paper off his much-anticipated new BB gun. He said, "I always wanted to do that!"
Then he asked where I wanted to go next. I suggested the petting zoo by the vet's place on Tollgate Road. He suggested Home Depot. "For paint samples, " he said, quickly redeeming the manly suggestion. He's goooood! He was thinking practical (we need light bulbs) but remembered I want him to paint our dining room yet this summer. (My idea of romance is watching him paint the color I've chosen.)
"Or we could just go home and talk in the driveway and watch the stars through the moonroof, " I said.
And that's what we did. Except that we got a third wheel who also wanted to hug Daddy in the new car. Ah, maturity.
Ah, blessed day.
posted by Zoanna at
7:08 PM
6 Comments:
I loved reading a day in the life of Zoanna. We should all do a day in the life for a post. It would be interesting to see what variety there is in our ordinary lives, as well as what similarities.
I hope to be posting soon on Ordinary Mother. I have ten ideas, and can't seem to sit still long enough to put it into writing. Add to that my computer issues(I dropped it). It is alive, but with a limp.
Yes, Amanda, it was a peaceful day. I forgot the lovely interlude while I was cleaning my room that Joel came in and rubbed my feet. On my nightstand are three different lotions. He took the tall Jergens and said, 'This is a giraffe yotion. It's for backs and necks." Then he took the short, fat bottle and say, "This is the cow yotion. It's for feet." I asked him to put cow lotion on my feet. That was another great pleasure from soft, yittle hands.
Laurie, I would LOVE to read a day-in-the-life-of from everyone of my bloggin' buddies. Want to be next?
Zo- I totally agree with AJ on that one...total peace. It is amazing what God can do with the ordinary!
What beauty is in the ordinary! Thanks for sharing, this is one of my favorite of your posts. Loved the "whipped cream cheeks" description, sent shivers down my spine!! :)
Someone I know well had to place her three year old for adoption because she couldn't handle his behavior. (She had adopted him as an infant, not fully knowing how badly fetal alcohol syndrome could be). That was when my Stephen was three. She couldn't resist stroking his face, and she was actually the one who said "One of the things I miss most is his whipped cream cheeks." That phrase has always stuck with me, as well as the sorrow I feel for this dear (single) mother.
I wonder what my days actually look like written down. I'll have to see! :)
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