I just returned to school from a beyond-lovely Thanksgiving break. It was so nice to be with the people who mean the most to me and eat way too much home-cooked food by mothers who dash around like little food fairies in the kitchen. But as it turned out, I spent some time cooking as well. NOT like a little food fairy. And here’s where the story begins.
Thomas likes waffles. I like to make him waffles. So at one in the afternoon, he came over to the house and after putting the first cup of batter in the iron, I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Something was wrong, so I opened the iron and there was a white, still-mushy waffle. The 20 year old iron didn’t get hot enough, so in dismay, I had a giant bowl of waffle batter and no where to put it. Thom was still set on breakfast food, so he recommended french toast instead (saying if I mixed it up, he’d make it). I had all the ingredients together except the six eggs. Upon looking in the fridge, I found two. That called for a Dollar General run, then we were finally able to make us some toast!
What was so fun was I had never seen my guy cook like that. He was flipping that toast like nobody’s business and was really enjoying himself, as you can see.
We then decided to keep going and make pancakes with the leftover waffle batter. AND we heated up some bacon and brought out nuts, cool whip and powdered sugar. By 2:30 we were done. What started as a disappointed Mal over a broken waffle iron turned into a beautiful, sugary feast with my man that we both were proud of.
He’s so go with the flow. I admire him.
Friday nights in college are kind of odd for me, and maybe for other people too. It’s like there’s this expectation that you have a rad party to attend (or 3 or 4) or a big date night to get dolled up for. And half the time it’s three o’ clock in the afternoon and I have NO IDEA what I’m doing later. But all things considered, it turned out to be a wonderful low-key evening :) Let me elaborate.
Emma, Shannon and I grabbed some Chinese food from the Commons for dinner and ate it outside by the fountain, which was extremely pleasant. The weather is GORGEOUS right now. Emma and I went bowling with CSF (ok, so I didn’t stay in the whole time) and came back and made a mess of her room making paper crafts. Shannon joined us and we tore pages out of old books and maps and used stamps and watercolor to turn them into pinwheels and other fun-looking art.
And I don’t know what you call these things, but I love much.
Earlier this week we also added a “clothesline” of pictures (remember that twine reference?) which we secured with clothespins along our main wall; love. And we also strung up two strands of lights criss-crossing our ceiling in the middle. Florescent lights kill the room’s comfy factor, and one floor lamp wasn’t enough, so the extra lighting is perfect for a more mellow mood.
So here’s where the competition comes in. ISU’s Facebook page has a contest where you enter a picture of your dorm. People vote, and there are ten winners, but the top two get a fifty dollar gift card. To where, we don’t know, but I was always taught in tennis that a win’s a win. So surely the same theory applies. We’re getting a late start in the competition; however, we’ve recruited our friends to vote for us. We’re in it to win it. And we’ll keep you posted.
Here’s the submitted entry photo.
Mmm…DIY and Christmas lights. A magical combination.
Things are coming full circle. I say that with a hint of hesitancy, but also with a sense of excitement for what’s to come. I’m talking about my family. As we headed over to Indy tonight for a family birthday celebration, I was able to sit next to this little bean:
Sweet, isn’t he? And while I tried excessively to make him smile by making ludicrous faces and talking that baby talk, I couldn’t help but later think about how our family life is changing and how it will continue to change. This feeling was further pressed, as upon arriving I saw my cousin’s adorable 8 month old, Eli, as well as the ever-enthusiastic Aiden, always begging someone to play with him, and there was talk of more babies to come. Those little babies and the can’t-help-but-laugh orneriness of Aid reminded me that that’s who I used to be. And Megan and Mark and my cousins too. We were the ones people doted over. We were the ones who were told to eat “just three more” bites before we could get down from the table. And now we’re the parents with the cute kids (ok, not me specifically, but you get the point).
It’s an odd thing. In the near future, Christmas and Thanksgiving and birthday parties are going to be overrun with kids again. Another generation arises. I realize this is kind of what happens; it’s the natural progression, or whatever, but it’s still an idea to get acquainted with. Strange.
But exciting. If I love these boys this much, I’m only going to love my own more. And the chaos at the dinner table, the messes, the much-strived for smiles…it will all just be…well, good.