GRATITUDE · Kitchen Table · Motherhood

Four Hours Later on a Tuesday.

 

SONY DSCWhat a beautiful Tuesday morning it was. I woke up, made my morning americano, read my Bible, put on my makeup, and played with Greyson with high hopes of completing all of the items on the to-do list that I wrote Monday night. It looked something like this: go to town and pick up some (more) coffee, go to Home Depot, and to the grocery store. Then, come home and plant some herbs and flowers in our cute wheel barrel planter that has been sitting bare for nearly three months, clean our house, do some laundry, gather some things for Good Will, wash the car, and cook dinner. Just everyday type tasks.

 

All was well. Greyson tolerated going into town okay until we got ready to go the grocery store. I could tell the trip might be cut short by his frowny eyebrows and little fusses that would have probably turned into full blown “get me out of this carseat! Cries” as we rolled through the produce section in the grocery store. So….I decided to skip the drama, and get back home, since I did get everything else accomplished in town. I could always go back later in the day after everything else is finished and Greyson takes his afternoon nap, I thought.SONY DSC

Once home, I unloaded Greyson and walked past our empty wine barrel wheel barrel eager to get planting. I got him all situated in his little vibrating baby hammock in the doorway of our kitchen and porch. After unloading all of the flowers, soil, and herbs I starting adding potting soil, when the phone rang. It was Grey.

I was trying to utilize the time that I had while Greyson was content not being held, so I continued to work with one hand while Grey and I talked. FYI: not a good idea to try dumping soil into a wheel barrel out of a bag as big as you are with one hand. The wheel barrel, and soil that I managed to put into it, came crashing down onto the lawn. Do you know how difficult it is to get potting soil out of grass? I’ll spare you the effort, the answer is nearly impossible. I used our kitchen broom to brush it up onto the concrete and get it back into the wheel barrel.SONY DSC

Anyways, I got off of the phone, turned on some music, and thought this is like strait out of a Better Homes and Garden Magazine: A mama showing her baby how to pot flowers peacefully in the morning light. How relaxing…until I heard it. Eh eh eh….oh know…I peeked over, and Greyson had on his sour face getting all wound up for a good shout. I scooped him up and held him on my hip while we arranged the flowers still in the pots creating a blueprint for the barrel. Oh I see, he just wanted to help. The only problem is his “helping” completely retires one of my working hands leaving me with only one hand to dig holes, remove plants from containers, get them situated where I want them, cover the roots up, and bend down to pick up the next plant. Sigh. This is going to take forever…and forever it did.

I was now about forty five minutes into my planting project with only one plant of lavender to show for in the barrel. I suppose a normal person would wait until their baby went down for a nap…or someone could hold him…or he decided that sitting in his baby hammock wasn’t that bad. But I didn’t. I thought: the front pack!! Normally, Greyson isn’t too fond of this little contraption that allows me to carry him around like a marsupial with BOTH hands free to work…but who knows. Maybe today is the day he will feel keen about the idea. I strapped him in and—he cried. So I walked around a bit thinking that it just takes a little getting used to. No, no, and no.

Then I go an idea:  “I could just feed him….” I thought, he is practically in the right position. No I’m not kidding. I actually fed my baby in a front pack…and didn’t think anything about it, until I walked past the window and almost fell down laughing. This was the funniest thing I had seen in a long time…and very effective—so I am not ashamed to say I rolled with it. I planted rosemary, pansies, vinca, and creeping myrtle all while Greyson very happily gulped away.

He started to get restless again, this time because he was ready for his nap and needed to get to a comfy spot. I started to unstrap him as he fussed when the phone rang. It was my sister-in-law. We talked with little fusses in the background, until they escalated and got so loud that I couldn’t even hear what she was saying…. “do you want to just call me back?” she asked. So I got off the phone, hugged my ten week old baby, and he immediately started to melt into my arms and get cozy for his afternoon nap. I laid him down and went back out to my half planted barrel. I was now two hours into the project. I called my sister-in-law back…. then my mom called while I was on the phone…so I called her back…then Grey called when I was on the phone with her….so I called Grey back.

 Finally after all of the phone “ring around the rosy” was over with, I got back to planting, and managed to get all of the plants in when I heard it again from upstairs: “eh, eh, eh…” So I tromped up stairs and picked up a now much happier baby.

I still had to water in the plants, and clean up the containers, wash off the porch, etc. etc. So I did this bending over very slowly with a baby on my hip, one task at a time. Until the job was finally finished. I stepped back, still holding Greyson looked at our flowers we literally planted together, then looked at him.SONY DSC

“Four hours later we are finally done huh?….Well that wasn’t too bad” I sarcastically thought. We went back inside, and he gave me the biggest gummiest smile {insert a heart melting into a puddle on the floor,} so I set aside the rest of the items on the to-do list for the day (besides making dinner) and we read, played, rested for the rest of the afternoon. It didn’t matter that it took me four hours to plant all of those flowers, just like it doesn’t matter that some days I only have time to get mascara onto one eye. Days like last Tuesday are what being a mama is all about.

Love, Brianna. 

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