I’m a Believer

…blessed is she that believed… -Luke 1:45

Recipe for Crushed & Shattered Dreams* April 15, 2008

Ingredients:

  • 1 overscheduled mom
  • 1 overscheduled dad
  • 3 overscheduled children
  • 1 work day at church
  • 1 school carnival
  • 1 ball practice
  • 1 half empty pantry
  • 1 commitment to bring 2 cakes to the church cakewalk
  • 1 commitment to bring 5 gallons of homemade lemonade to church fair
  • 1 curvy road

Instructions:

Combine all overscheduled ingredients early on a Saturday morning.  Be sure overscheduled mother picks up overscheduled teen from friend’s house and takes her to grocery store after church workday to purchase items for 2 cakes and dinner, while overscheduled dad takes 2 other overscheduled children to school carnival & conducts ball practice. 

Get home from grocery store and realize that all the eggs in (dirty) fridge are boiled, and thus, cannot be used in baking 2 gourmet cakes for cakewalk.  Call overscheduled dad at ball practice and ask him to please pick up eggs on way home from said ball practice plus pick up one bag of ice (in his spare time, of course). 

Cook dinner while waiting for eggs.  (Be sure that the enchiladas you cook are “too spicy” for anyone to enjoy.)  When eggs, sunburnt husband, and dirty overscheduled children get home, send them all to tub and begin making cakes – one “Orange Dreamsicle” and one “Peanut Butter Dark Chocolate Dream.”  Allow overscheduled clean children to “help” while dinner is baking.

Eat enchiladas.  Listen to complaints – “My mouth is on fire!”  “I need some more water!”  “Why did you make these so hot?”  Try to clean up mess so that you can make another mess while finishing cakes.  Run to Dollar Tree to pick out two cute plates for gourmet cakes.  Finish cakes with artistic garnish & flair (think Martha Stewart).

Make 5 gallons of homemade lemonade & slice 15 lemons.  Allow children to “help” again. Try to lift 100 pound lemonade dispenser.  Decide that husband will be the one to move it.

Let all ingredients rest until Sunday morning.  Load up the van early.  Begin 17-minute ride to church.  As you round a curve in the road, turn the wheel sharply to avoid oncoming traffic in your lane.  Listen carefully for the crunch of 5 gallons of lemonade toppling on top of artistically garnished cakes, crushing Orange Dreamsicle cake to smithereens and half shattering Peanut Butter Dark Chocolate Dream.  Pull over to the side of the road & hysterically throw a hissy fit in your Sunday clothes.  Pick up lemonade from atop your shattered dreams cakes, and continue to church house in strained silence.

Get very angry at oncoming car, overscheduled children, overscheduled husband, and overscheduled self.  While in communion service, realize that it was only cake, the “wasted time” spent baking it was time spent with children, that you really didn’t want your husband have a head-on collision on the way to church, and that artistically decorated cakes are not indispensable to the church cakewalk.  These things happen…

James 4:14  Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.

Vow to carry cake on your lap next time.

*Based on a true story.

I’m a Believer!
Laura
 

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12 Responses to “Recipe for Crushed & Shattered Dreams*”

  1. Rena Says:

    I can’t take it, I can’t take it….soooo sorry your Shattered Dreams are now my laughter medice! ;Q
    Lesson well noted….but more importantly… it has made my day ohhhh so much better! Just sorry it was at your expense. But, seriously, I know this is a red flag warning sign for my highly overscheduled self. Keep it comin’, Sister…

  2. Rena Says:

    ooooops, medicine….that is….

  3. carla Says:

    i almost always forget that other people have days like this also!! so sorry that it happened to you.

  4. Laura Says:

    Carla – I think my Mama told me there would be days like these… I just didn’t understand EXACTLY what she meant. I think I’m starting to get it. 😛

  5. mommadon777 Says:

    AND THEN THERE’S MAUDE….I have advise. I am sure that I do. And I will pass it to you just as soon as I figure out what it is. Somewhere in my overscheduled household in a pile of underpaid bills or mixed with some overstinky dog poop. I know it’s here. Maybe it’s somewhere in the overstuffed laundry basket(s) or out side beside my over driven over scheduled new dented van. It my be that it’s laying beside my over worked husband where his lunch SHOULD be but wasn’t because his wife was busy with her over scheduled life this am putting her over scheduled kid on the bus. I don’t know. But it’s here somewhere; anyone that knows me knows that it is.

  6. Laura Says:

    Mommadon – i believe you!
    -La

  7. […] about me…  Just one week after my cakes were crushed on the way to church (see previous post Crushed & Shattered Dreams).  This is what appeared on the side of the road, just before the EXACT spot where the […]

  8. Shaylynn Says:

    I found your blog searching for the words to I believe. Thanks for posting those and thank you also for your story! I tend to be a perfectionist and hate to fail. Your story reminded me that God is in control…not me. Isn’t that what we are suppose to do? Encourage and enlighten one another?

  9. Laura Says:

    Shaylynn – thanks for stopping by. I hope you’ll come back. Yes we are definitely supposed to encourage and enlighten one another. Is there such a thing as a wannabe perfectionist? Cause I think that’s me – I’m not good enough at trying to be perfect that I can be called an official perfectionist. ???

    Laura

  10. Carla LeBoeuf Says:

    Hey! I enjoyed reading your post. I wish my spiritual house was in such order.
    Your long lost friend,
    Carla

  11. Laura Says:

    Hey my Long Lost Friend! I’m glad you found me (from HS reunions site?). Sorry I haven’t replied sooner…playing catch up from being gone for 4 days. I’ll email you soon –

    Love, LAURA

  12. In hindsight, the smashing of the peanut butter dark chocolate cake sort of contained its own inherent punishment.


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