Shake Well

This morning the unthinkable happened. Okay, that might be a little dramatic. You be the judge.

After changing the girls’ diapers, getting them dressed for the day and nursing them, I finally put them down to play while I made a mad dash for the kitchen to toast a piece of bread and guzzle a quick cup of coffee. The moment I stepped into the kitchen my nose was assaulted with the scent of natural gas. I immediately checked the nobs on the stove and, sure enough, one was turned just slightly left of of the “off” position. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Visions of “Fight Club”-esque explosions danced through my head as I slowly backed away from the kitchen, quickly threw on clothes acceptable to the general public, got the girls packed up, opened up every single window of the apartment, and bolted.

With Vera on me in the Ergo and Ruby in the stroller I hoofed it to the nearest corner, and proceeded to text Joe angrily:

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Whoops.

Tail squarely between my legs, I stubbornly did not text back. I knew it was my fault yet, here I was, perfectly poised to blame Joe for his mistake. He called a few minutes later to cool me down and reassure me that everything would be okay. I was ready for an earful, though not surprised when he said, calmly, “It’s beautiful out. Why don’t you take a nice walk with the girls and get some breakfast? There is no reason to point blame; we’re a team; we’re in this together. ” I believe my exact response was an unintelligible “Hmmph” (I’m not a morning person these days).

Being that it was early, and I was too terrified to even think of going near the kitchen, I walked to a local donut shop to take a few deep breathes and enjoy a sinfully delicious glazed old-fashioned and some orange juice. I finagled the stroller to the counter, got my goodies, sat down at the outside table, inhaled deeply and upon exhale opened my eyes to this:




Shake well. Separation is natural. Separation is natural? Hmm. I thought back to several years earlier when philosophy professor (go figure) stated that, in some way or another, -- whether through death or separation-- all relationships end. Separation is natural. Unless, of course, shaken well.

Shaken well. Mixed. Incorporated. Interwoven. Blended. Fused. Brought together.

Our relationship most certainly is, especially right now, is a joint effort. Joe has a great way of clearly understanding that. And, at time, I do to. Other times, like today, it takes a few reminders we’re always better as a team and, sometimes, a little shaking up is a good thing.

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