Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
Actually, I’m not sure she did. I don’t remember my mother ever telling me about the kind of days I’m having lately. Maybe she didn’t want to scare me. Maybe she didn’t have those kind of days.
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Either way, I don’t blame her, but today was one of THOSE days. The four-cups-of-coffee, two-Diet-Cokes, all-the-chocolate-in-the-house, somebody-help-me kind of days.
Days when the 3-year-old flat-out refuses to use the potty and screams when you forcibly take her there. And only eats watermelon for dinner. And doesn’t wear pants.
When the 18-month-old insists on making as much noise as possible and injures his mother in the process. Mother screams, yells and throws a shoe at the shower then bursts into tears because she just. can’t. take it. anymore.
The children watched said outburst in stunned silence. Actually, the 18-month-old handed me his babies for my comfort. And the 3-year-old started cleaning up the house.
Maybe there’s something to this throwing a tantrum tactic.
It was a no-nap day in our house, which makes everyone cranky, and results in things like mothers crying uncontrollably, fathers fleeing the house in record time for work, and 3-year-olds crying when their 18-month-old brothers hit them on the head with a toy hammer. (Besides making noise, the boy loves to hit things and people. Mostly, people.) Yeah, that just happened. I was in the room. Mother of the year, right here.
Days when both kids are crying and tired and will be in bed before 6 o’clock. And mother will eat a double portion of Double Dunker ice cream. (Thank you, Turkey Hill.)
It’s days like these when I feel like I’ve been duped.
Motherhood promises joy and giggles and precious moments that make you say “Aw” spontaneously and force ooey-gooey feelings to bubble up from somewhere deep inside your soul.
It’s not supposed to yield screaming and crying and moments of frustration that make you want to throw in the towel and vow that no amount of money, not even a million dollars, could make this job worth the trouble. (See 10 Reasons I Hate Being a Mom for more on this.)
“Motherhood is the most disgusting job ever!”
Yep. Add that to my mother of the year quote list.
The good thing about days like this is that they end, eventually. The kids will tire and fall asleep, even if they have to scream out their tiredness until they haven’t anything left. The sun will set. The stars will appear. And Mom and Dad will fall into bed, too.
It may not be the best of days, but it’s certainly not the worst. And, Lord willing, we get to try again tomorrow.
Scarlett O’Hara’s foolish — and courageous — optimism from “Gone With the Wind” rings true: “Tomorrow is another day.”
Amen.
If only we’d had a treasure map.
But our compass for adventure today was a Groupon I’d bought several months ago for a local place called Indian Echo Caverns, in the Hershey area. It wasn’t spelunking (that’s a fun word to say); in Isabelle’s words it was “cave exploring.” I feared it might be a cheesy, gimmicky experience.
I’m pleased to say it was neither.
Had we stumbled onto the caverns while running from Italian fugitives holed up in an abandoned restaurant on a quest for pirate treasure, the day would not have been more adventurous.
The tour begins at the gift shop, then leads visitors down 71 steps (a number they continually repeat) to the entrance to the caverns.
Because I was trying to keep Corban occupied and sort of on task (he’s easily distracted by water of any kind), I missed much of the explanation and history of the caverns. But, as Isabelle remarked part way through the tour, “this place is the coolest.” And she wasn’t just talking about the 50-degree temperature of the caverns.
Pictures will say it better than my words can. So, here’s a few to consider:
Maybe the most memorable moment in the caverns is in a room — that’s what the guides call each section of the cavern — where the guide turns off all the tour lights and you experience total darkness. Like, can’t see your hand in front of your face darkness. The kids freaked out. But it’s something we don’t really grasp in our electricity-dependent world. That, alone, was worth the price of admission.
The cavern tour ends in a spot where a man, Amos Wilson, also known as”the hermit of Pennsylvania,” lived for years, emerging only to work for a nearby farmer. His journal was available for purchase, but I didn’t bite this time. Sounds fascinating, though. (Chester Copperpot, anyone?)
I wouldn’t have imagined that a hole in the ground could be so fascinating, but imagination is part of the experience. I wish I could have let mine run wild a little more.
A definite recommendation. Isabelle even asked if we could come back sometime. Maybe when Corban is a little older. His favorite part of the caverns was the puddles.
His legs were covered in thousand-year-old gunk. And a few of the other guests in our group were none too pleased by his splashing.
After the tour, we picnicked on the grounds, played on the playground and petted and fed some goats, bunnies and chickens. Also Corban’s favorite part. Every time he heard the rooster, he took off running toward the animal area.
When we were finally able to pull ourselves away from Indian Echo Caverns, we drove back toward Hershey, hoping the kids would fall asleep for an hour or so. Success! So we hung out in the outlet mall parking lot while the kiddos napped.
Next stop, Chocolate World. Our umpteenth trip but when it’s free, it doesn’t really matter how many times you go. Especially when the kids enjoy it more the older they get.
Plus, free chocolate at the end of the ride — who could pass that up? No Baby Ruth. I think that’s a different company. But Chunk would have liked it.
Our final stop: Fuddrucker’s. World’s Greatest Hamburgers. The sign says so. And I’d have to agree. Although I don’t think they really have to compete with “the world.” Burgers outside of the U.S. just aren’t burgers.
We were going to eat here anyway, but a kids’ dinner deal sealed the deal for us. $1.99 for a kids meal after 5 p.m. Mondays through Thursdays.
The money we “saved” on the kids’ food we used for a post-dinner milkshake. Not only is the food good, but Fuddrucker’s brings back happy memories for me. Road trips, good friends and fabulous burgers and conversation. It was great to experience it with our kids, too.
We didn’t find any “rich stuff” like the Goonies were looking for. At least, not the buried treasure kind they needed to save their homes.
But we did make a whole lot of memories.
And for us, that’s the richest stuff on earth.