A risk of having children is that objects you love have a high probability of being broken. (The risk is worth it, but it is a risk nonetheless.) It is an unknown phenomenon how things you think are ugly or utilitarian stand the test of time while your most treasured items are muddied, ripped, trampled or disintegrate into powdered glass.
For today's story we are revisiting the early days of our marriage. We were students living in married student housing at the University of Utah. I hear people complain about the first years of marriage, but the first three years of ours were magical. (Infertility changed our fairy tale life into a nightmare for many years after that, but I digress.) I loved being married and I have so many happy, fun memories from those first few years. One of my favorite things to do was go to Pioneer Park on Saturday mornings and meander around hand in hand with Steve at the Farmer's Market tasting fresh produce, listening to musicians, eating street tacos or sharing a lemonade and looking at all the local vendor's wares. One summer I fell in love with a recycled glass plate with two rings in the middle. It was $75 and for young married college students that was out of our price range. All summer we passed it and I would drool over that plate. The summer ended and a new semester started. Life was busy. December came and on Christmas morning Steve gave me a special gift...the plate. Apparently he had grabbed the artisan's card and had her make a plate just for me. I was thrilled and for the last ten years I have displayed that plate on our piano. Every time I walk past it I am reminded of what a good man I married.
Which brings us to this blog post. I was in the kitchen doing dishes and I heard the boys arguing over a toy. I heard them climb on the piano bench. I heard the moment the plate was knocked off its stand. I heard the plate hit the edge of the piano. I heard the glass shatter and explode as it hit the tile. And I heard me screaming "NO!" over and over like a broken record.
The boys and I were separated by four feet of glass shards and powder. They ran to their room without me telling them to. It was probably the fact that I was still screaming in horror that tipped them off that they should run for their lives. It took me an hour and a half to get all the glass off the tile and carpet. The boys stayed patiently in their room and by the time I was done I was much more calm. J told me they were fighting over a toy and were playing keep away when they accidentally knocked my beloved plate to the ground. I thanked him for being honest, they said they were sorry, I gave them hugs and that was that.
Some may ask why I have nice things out at all. It's because I would rather love and treasure the objects than have them safe in a box and never enjoyed. So goodbye recycled glass plate with the two rings that I loved because it reminded me everyday that Steve is a good guy. We had a good run...
For today's story we are revisiting the early days of our marriage. We were students living in married student housing at the University of Utah. I hear people complain about the first years of marriage, but the first three years of ours were magical. (Infertility changed our fairy tale life into a nightmare for many years after that, but I digress.) I loved being married and I have so many happy, fun memories from those first few years. One of my favorite things to do was go to Pioneer Park on Saturday mornings and meander around hand in hand with Steve at the Farmer's Market tasting fresh produce, listening to musicians, eating street tacos or sharing a lemonade and looking at all the local vendor's wares. One summer I fell in love with a recycled glass plate with two rings in the middle. It was $75 and for young married college students that was out of our price range. All summer we passed it and I would drool over that plate. The summer ended and a new semester started. Life was busy. December came and on Christmas morning Steve gave me a special gift...the plate. Apparently he had grabbed the artisan's card and had her make a plate just for me. I was thrilled and for the last ten years I have displayed that plate on our piano. Every time I walk past it I am reminded of what a good man I married.
Which brings us to this blog post. I was in the kitchen doing dishes and I heard the boys arguing over a toy. I heard them climb on the piano bench. I heard the moment the plate was knocked off its stand. I heard the plate hit the edge of the piano. I heard the glass shatter and explode as it hit the tile. And I heard me screaming "NO!" over and over like a broken record.
The boys and I were separated by four feet of glass shards and powder. They ran to their room without me telling them to. It was probably the fact that I was still screaming in horror that tipped them off that they should run for their lives. It took me an hour and a half to get all the glass off the tile and carpet. The boys stayed patiently in their room and by the time I was done I was much more calm. J told me they were fighting over a toy and were playing keep away when they accidentally knocked my beloved plate to the ground. I thanked him for being honest, they said they were sorry, I gave them hugs and that was that.
My boys with the toy that was my plate's downfall.
Some may ask why I have nice things out at all. It's because I would rather love and treasure the objects than have them safe in a box and never enjoyed. So goodbye recycled glass plate with the two rings that I loved because it reminded me everyday that Steve is a good guy. We had a good run...
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