Moments of failure...

My husband and I had some dear friends over for dinner last night. I asked them to bring dessert and I would make dinner. I have a stack of largely neglected cookbooks from which I chose a never-before-attempted recipe to try on them. I was feeling pretty good by about 5:00, with 2 1/2 hours before they were due to show up, and most of my prep work done. However, I didn't count on my crappy range top failing me yet again. We have gas appliances, and this particular range and oven seems to be the bottom of the line. Several burners tend to go out entirely when you are merely trying to turn them down, and the oven doesn't even have any sort of alert to tell you when it has reached the temperature you are trying to get it to. Last night I discovered that the fume hood is also crap. I was sauteing my chicken breasts and the bottom of the pan slowly began to blacken. I was a bit worried about this development, but they were really fat chicken breasts so I knew they had awhile longer to cook before they would be done in the middle.

I continued to ignore the building smoke as I prepared the rest of the meal, until the security system alarm started going off. Apparently it has a smoke detector portion as well, and the chicken-smoke had set it off. I punched in the code to cancel it and returned to my range top. I kid you not, less than a minute later it went off again. This happened at least 4 or 5 times, and then the security monitoring center called the house to ask if everything was OK. This call was fragmented since apparently when your alarm goes off (and it kept going off while I was trying to talk to the guy), it cuts off the call. That's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard. When I finally assured the guy everything was OK, he said he'd cancel the fire department call, but they were already outside. I was still in the kitchen but I heard the fireman laugh when my husband explained the situation, saying, "Oh, she can't cook, eh?" To Bill's credit, he defended my cooking skills.

Happily, the evening worked out well, but as the fire truck was pulling away from our house I had a moment where I felt completely and hopelessly inadequate. My child was screaming in terror from the impossibly loud alarm, my dinner looked to be burning, and I was in tears. I feel fortunate not to have more of these moments, but pardon my diction when I say they suck big time.

As I was writing this post, my husband had turned on the oven to heat a frozen pizza, and the alarm started going off again. Apparently the infinitesimal bit of drippings on the oven floor gave off just a hint of smoke...so now I can't use my oven. Lovely. Sigh.

Quick update

So, I fear that I will not be able to write again for awhile, as I have 125 pages to read by Tuesday for one class, and a good 20 poems to read for Wednesday for my other class. I love being a student, but I don't read quickly and I don't have time to do it until my little angel goes to bed for the night, which usually isn't until 7:30 or 8:00, and I sometimes still have to eat dinner after that. This mom stuff isn't easy. As I was telling my own mom the other day, it's "tricky." To say the least.

I have been struggling with getting my little one to go down for his naps. Even though he is clearly tired at certain times of day, he is a sleep fighter. He also refuses to nap in his crib, he prefers snuggling on me while I lie on the couch. This is sweet and all, but destroys any chance of me getting much done during the day. Ah well, I realize that he will not still be doing this when he is in high school, or even when he is five. So I'll try to appreciate it for what it is. 

I had a rather ludicrous dream this morning while napping with the little one, which involved a really odd food item. Maybe I'll try a ditty about that.

Lying on the couch

dreaming of ground eagle--tastes

just like chicken? Hmm.

Yes, I have probably the most bizarre dreams ever. Once I had a dream about a beach party in which all the revelers were dressed in different colored dog costumes.

And with that, I take my leave...the little one is ready for his nap.

A new poem

Here's a first draft of a poem I started today. I was actually intending to make this more oblique, and I may do another version that is less obvious eventually, but I kind of like how this is turning out so far. I appreciate any constructive comments. As yet it is untitled.

The angel nestles in close to me,

so near that distinguishing the line between us

becomes impossible.

The process began as a sort of awkward fumble,

both of us willing but not sure how to begin.

These days it can even be accomplished

when one or both of us are asleep.

There are no words for the warmth 

of the feeling of providing for one so small.

The cares and the worries of the day disappear

and there is only me and him,

him quickly fading,

me trying to memorize his face,

his sweet and sometimes sour breath,

his flawless ivory skin,

his untroubled expression as he gives in to sleep,

the breathing becoming deep and peaceful.

(Ah, to sleep like that again!)

I am trying to hold on to a moment

that I know will be all too fleeting.

I will blink and he will be going to school,

going to college,

getting married and moving away,

having an angel of his own.

But for now, I lean back

and snuggle in closer,

resting in the moment I will never have again.