Happy Saturday of the three day weekend! Things are quiet at the pool, and truthfully, while not always accustomed to it, we like it that way. As I poured my morning coffee, a memory leaped into my mind - the day I had my first taste.
Many have their first taste of Columbian delight as a child - with sugar and lots of cream. Mima wouldn't do it. "It will stunt your growth" she said. And, having been in elementary school with a girl who was super, super small (who we all knew drank coffee at home), I didn't push it. When I was grown and a camp counselor, I had my first drink of hot tea, and wow - I was hooked! But still, even though I loved the smell of coffee, I never touched it. Not even through college, when you're pulling all-nighters and up early for class - nope. It was orange juice all the way.
I did learn how to make it - after all, one might have company who would like a cup - and I made it every morning for DH. (For those who don't know, or have forgotten, the H stands for Hubby - the D is interchangeable, like for Darling, or Devious, or Dastardly...you get the idea. Use your imagination in the spirit of the context!)
Anyway, I made it every morning. There was one particular Saturday morning that truly stands out in my mind, although there are some fuzzy details. We had moved in with my mother-in-law when I wa pregnant with Eggbert because she'd been diagnosed with memory loss. Talk of Altzheimer's at the time wasn't clear cut, but she was definitely on the decline and couldn't live alone anymore. At this point of my story, we had four children, and they were young: Eggbert was probably seven or eight, and Big Brother was eighteen months younger; Morticia would have been around two, making Ms. Business one-ish. I just remember she was sitting in a high chair. Clara, DH's mom, might have been at the table, but she could have been bed-ridden at that point.
Saturday mornings were pancake mornings. I would make a large batch of pancakes, and either sausage or bacon, and we gathered around the table. I loved the clamor of kids and silverware. We would pull the table out from the wall, and when everyone was there you could barely get the refrigerator door open, it was that tight! When everyone was finished, DH and I would continue sitting at the table, and we talked. That particular morning, everyone was well into their stacks of pancakes. Even Ms. Business, in her highchair that only fit in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, enjoyed a pancake while making texture art on the doorframe with syrup. (and just about any other food you might imagine!)
I had just poured DH a cup of coffee and set it down, when he looked lovingly around the table at our little clan. He took a sip of coffee, then said, "When mother goes, I would like one more."
One more...cup of coffee? Pancake? No, he meant another child. Granted, we had talked at the beginning of our engagement and thought we'd like four (we were both only children, and this sounded grand), but now - 5? I still wasn't getting a full night sleep, even though I was no longer nursing my youngest, but the thought crept into my head that there wasn't going to be much rest in the next several years. Something would need to be done.
I poured my first cup of coffee. Granted, it was with two teaspoons of sugar and lots of cream, but I found the benefits were, well, beneficial. As the warm liquid graced my tongue, I realized what I'd been missing, and haven't stopped drinking it since.
Clara died a couple years later, while I was finishing my art certification. It was when I was in the first year of teaching art that yes, we found we were expecting Moink. It was Ms. Business who broadcast it to my Superintendent that I was expecting. I was hanging artwork at the district's Central Office, and had brought her with me. He came out of his office to meet her and chat a moment, when she announced "Mommy's having a baby."
"Oh," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "Did we know that?"
"You know it now," I said, continuing to hang artwork. I found out what I needed to do to take the next school year off - there was nobody to take two toddlers to pre-school and take care of an infant! We were fortunate, and it was a busy year, but amazing. Life has been good, and I can't imagine it without any of them. And yes, I was right - there was very little sleeping or rest. DH started a second job when Moink was born, which left me to hustle kids into the car, zipping around to activities through the evening, while still putting a meal on the table. (It was around this time that I thought we should figure out how to install a microwave and small refrigerator into the back of the station wagon!) Every morning started with at least one cup of coffee; every day ended with falling exhausted into bed. I don't know how we did sports, boy scouts, and girl scouts. Yes, we missed an occasional activity or birthday party because I would just plain forget something (go figure!), but we did it. and I wouldn't exchange those days for anything.
And yes, I still drink coffee, now minus the sugar because of the diabetes, but there is still the cream. I often tell people I'm a coffee snob, because I only like it with half-and-half, and not all coffee is roasted and brewed the same. So, if I'm at your house and I decline a cup, please don't take it personally. It has nothing to do with you.
So, I'm going to sit back and enjoy my Saturday morning coffee (no pancakes today, though), and think about how to spend this long weekend without overdoing it. just enjoying my coffee. If you're in the neighborhood, though, drop by - there's always room and an extra mug for one more at the Stress Pool!
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