Life with my one year old…

My almost-sister-in-law Becky blogged about being thankful for bad days here.   I had one of those days yesterday.  Let me start by saying that I already had a full day.  We had our church’s Ladies’ Christmas Cookie Exchange.  I was doing the games, and I had 3 dozen cookies to roll out, cut out, bake, cool, and frost.  Then there was some other food to prepare, supper to make, and a piano lesson. 

It’s a good thing that I got up before Elaine and had my devotions, or I may have had a major meltdown.  I was just putting the finishing touches on this blog post when Elaine wanted to get down from my lap.  Apparently she toddled into the kitchen while I wasn’t paying attention. 

I heard a noise, but assumed Elaine had just slipped on the linoleum and had a “small bonk” (as we call them).  Elaine has inherited my klutziness and it is not unusual for her to have “issues.”  Elaine came running into the bedroom crying.  I picked her up and set her in my lap (still working on the blog). 

Then I smelled it.  Olive oil.  I looked down, and Elaine’s hands and shirtsleeves were covered in oil.  I picked her up and rushed into the bathroom.  As I leaned on the sink to wash Elaine’s hands, I realized that her entire backside was drenched in oil.  YEs…that also meant that my clothes were now saturated in oil because Elaine had been in my lap. 

I turned to look out the bathroom door toward the kitchen…a sinking feeling in my heart, and a lump in my throat.  This is what I saw…

(not the best picture, but the best I could capture)

You guessed it.  Nearly 25 ounces of expensive Bertolli Olive Oil coated my kitchen floor.  While it was definitely a waste and financial loss, my frustrated stemmed more from the fact that I was going to have to clean up this mess.  Right now.  At the beginning of my day.  My very busy day.  And I was not happy.

Elaine had come crying to me because she knew she was in trouble.  She has been disciplined for being in that cupboard before and trying to get into the oil.  I would store it somewhere else, but it is the cupboard I have that is tall enough for the oil bottles.  I guess it’s time for a child lock!

Elaine got a bath, which she did not enjoy for once because I didn’t allow her the luxury of playtime.  Then she spent a while like this…

(she spent her time crushing the Rice Chex into rice bits and throwing them in the floor.  Another mess to clean up)

…while I mopped the floor.  It took me three times to get the greasiness washed away.  I was grateful for the Pine Sol that was given to me the day before, because I needed something more than soap and water.

I really did intend to clean my floor.  I am grateful that I did not do it when it was “scheduled” or I would have had twice the work.  And I now know that my floor is really clean because it was mopped three times.  The trouble was I didn’t intend to do any of it yesterday.

The day was kind of a downhill slide from that point forward.  I had trouble with my cookie dough.  I couldn’t reach the cookie cutters in the high cupboard and Ben wasn’t home.  I was nearly out of powdered sugar and didn’t realize it (but I did have enough to get my cookies frosted).  I was exhausted and I missed my nap. 

Just when I thought I was back on track, I had another catastrophe.  I was slicing the French bread for the church activity, and I had a klutz moment.  I sliced a chunk off the end of my thumb.  I was using the only knife in my collection that is sharp enough to cut skin.

Yes, it was just one of those days. Becky, I guess I am thankful for bad days too.  I am grateful that God doesn’t give us any more than we can handle, if we are depending on His strength to get through.  But I really don’t want to repeat yesterday for a while!