Posts Tagged ‘perfectionist’

Don’t Go Shopping In Your Sleep

March 11, 2010

I know about talking in your sleep. One of my brothers was a source of entertainment because he talked in his sleep.  The first time we heard him, we (my mother, sister and I)  rushed into his room to hear him mumbling about something. We asked him what he was doing. “I’m sittin’ on the curb with a man and we’re smokin’ cigarettes and waiting for Daddy to come home.”    No one in our family smoked.  My brother was only five.

Whenever brother was sleep talking we could ask him anything and obtain all sorts of juicy information such as who he liked, had he kissed her, where he really went after school?

Then I had a son who walked in his sleep.  When he was seven my family and my sister’s family were on my parents house boat.  The cousins – all boys – were going to spend the night on the deck. I wouldn’t let my little fellow sleep on the deck for fear he would sleep walk and fall in the 30 feet of water and drown.  Gramps knew that all little boys needed to feel like one of the guys, so he tied a rope around my little one’s waist and then tied the rope to his own leg so if the boy walked in his sleep it would wake Gramps and he could stop him before he went overboard.  And if the kid fell in the water, Gramps could pull him out with the rope.  Problem solved.  Ahh, how do we mothers survive?

I never knew there was such a thing as shopping in your sleep until I did just that last week!

A young man in my church had assisted me with adding air to my tires.  He noticed that I had a cut or crack about one-and-a-half inches long on the side of a front tire.  He also noticed that on the back tire of that same side there was some cracking.  He suggested that I start replacing my tires which were obviously very old, but I have no idea how old, since I just acquired the car in August last year.  He suggested going to Walmart (since I’m on a tight budget) and getting one tire replaced at a time.  So, there would be no big expenditures.  This plan also sounded good to Dragon Slayer, who suggested that I buy a tire every three months. In a year I would have a whole set of new tires.  DS also suggested I look for sales on tires.

I’m not a morning person.  I had had less than the needed 8 hours sleep for several nights.  Last Wednesday I planned to meet with some friends for breakfast about 15 miles from my house at 6 AM.  Ack!  Not used to going to bed early, I fell asleep sometime around midnight and got up at five.  Showered. Fixed my hair. Oh, and yes, I dressed.  Tried to look like I was vibrantly awake.  After scraping hard frost off my car windows in the cold air, I was still groggy.

I remember praying that I would be safe driving  and that I would stay awake behind the wheel.  The accumulated sleep loss over several nights was taking it’s toll.  I was 30 minutes late, but who was keeping count?

The breakfast was a fabulous time with women who loved the Lord.

I left there feeling rejuvenated! I wanted to go shopping for art supplies but the shops weren’t open.  I saw Sam’s and felt drawn to go there.  I was asking myself what would I need there, when I remembered the tire!  Yes, they sell tires at Sam’s club. And Sam’s would be less expensive than even Walmart.

The salesman was so nice. Looked at my tires, and said they were very old.  He suggested I buy not one tire, but at least two so the tires would be equal on the same axle.  I asked if he had a sale. He did. If I bought three tires, I got the fourth one free.  But, I went in there to buy one tire, not three.  I’m thinking I don’t want to go in debt for so many tires.  Charge one tire, then pay it off, then another, so on, was my plan.

I asked for a quote which he printed out for two tires, and then offered to do one for four.  I said that wouldn’t be necessary because I was thinking four would just be twice the price of two. Right?  Oh my.  Not thinking straight.

I then took his quote to where I have bought tires for the last 10 or 12 years.  The man there showed me where the tred was separating from a tire on the rear.  Scary.  However, they didn’t have the exact same size tire.  He said it was the same in height, but just a fraction of an inch narrower. He insisted I needed to buy four tires, not two.  His quote was just a little bit less than twice Sam’s quote for two tires.  His tires were not the quality as Sam’s tires – 60,000 to Sam’s 70,000 miles.  He did say his tires would be whitewalls.

By now my brain had completely turned to mush.  I forgot that at Sam’s if I bought three tires I would get one free.  I forgot everything.  I said, “Okay, put on the tires.”

The tires look funny – not funny ha ha, but funny peculiar.  My car looks like it sits higher above the tires. Neither the height nor the width is the same. It feels like I’m going to lose control if I am at the speed limit when going around curves.

It was Saturday when it hit me that I had paid for four tires that were the wrong size when I could have paid for three and got the fourth one free!  I wasted 60 dollars!  And more, I got less quality for my money.  I have been so upset and angry.  Not angry at the salesman who sold me the tires. He did not twist my arm.  I have been angry and upset with ME!  Why wasn’t I listening to the Holy Spirit? Why wasn’t I paying attention? Why? Why? Why?

I’ve prayed many times and asked forgiveness. I know the Lord has forgiven me, but I have had a very hard time forgiving myself.  I try to be a good steward of my money. I can’t believe that I threw sixty dollars down a rat hole.

I’ve stewed enough over this mistake. I have to except it for what it is – shopping in my sleep.  Did I punish my little one for going down a flight of stairs and out the door into the night?  When the screen door closed, waking me, and I ran down the stairs and outside to find my son heading for the dumpsters in his little bare feet and sweet pea nightgown, did I punish him? No, I scooped him up and kissed him. I brought him safely inside and put him in the bed with me so he would be safe and I would know if he got out of the bed again. But then, he was only 20 months old.

Why can’t I be kind to myself when I make a mistake?  Why must I demand perfection of myself?  Why can’t I just say, “Bless your heart, honey,  you were shopping in your sleep.”


Does Jesus like Brownies?

November 22, 2009

Among the churchy crowd, I’m known as the brownie lady.  Folks really dig my brownies as the most delicious, scrumptious, chocolaty and yummy concoctions they have every put in their mouths (well, maybe not that good, but good). They long for my secret recipe.  Well, the truth is . . . the secret recipe is a box of restaurant style brownie mix.    Now, I will no longer be held in high esteem – as the truth about my baking skills has been exposed.

Today my goal was to help serve Thanksgiving Dinner to the homeless downtown.  I was going to contribute my killer-delicious brownies.  But I hadn’t had a chance to get the secret mix.  So Thursday night, I’m at walmart looking for brownie mix that might somehow resemble my honorable brownies.   Nope.  Not a chance.  But *name brand* had family size brownie mix on sale.  I bought five boxes.

Last night I discover I’m out of eggs. When I start to the store for eggs, I discover something under my windshield wiper.  A parking ticket  – a $150 fine!  Oh, NO!  I had parked in a handicap zone and did not have my plaque displayed.

Back home. With my mind on the $150 fine, I forgot to oil the bottom of the cake pans.  I set the timer, then forgot to turn the timer on.

Sometime later – I check the timer – it is not on.  I estimate it has been five minutes.  Obviously I’m not a good estimater.   Is there such a word as estimater?   I don’t know.  What I do know is that the brownies were cemented to the pans and I broke a plastic knife trying to loosen the edges.  I scratched the non-stick coating trying to dig out those brownie tiles.  I am wondering what a brown tile border would look like in the bathroom. Could you knock off a stray dog with one of these things?

I am praying that no one breaks a tooth on Saturday trying to eat one of these brownie tiles.

I tasted one of the brownies.  It had a slight fishy taste to it.  Oh my!  This is just awful!

Delicious, scrumptious, moist and heavenly these brownies were NOT!

The old me, the perfectionist, would  have thrown out the brownies, had a good cry, and probably would have been up all night cooking brownies from scratch from a recipe from a 1955 cookbook.  Did they have brownies back in 1955?  I dont’ know. But most folks didn’t use cake mixes.

Okay, closer to the truth would be that the old me would have thrown out the brownies, had a good cry, and given up.  Just decide that I could not go help the homeless because I was not perfect enough.

But, the new me, the free me, washed up the pans and the bowl and made some more brownies with the mixes I had bought – paying special attention to greasing the pans and making sure I turned on the timer.  And tried not to think about the$150 fine.

While they were cooking I was chating online with Skateboard Man (one of my favorite people) and suddenly the phone I had on top of the books on the top shelf of my desk fell.  The handset hit me in the head. The base knocked over a bowl of peanut hulls where I was happily depositing hulls as I noshed on roasted peanuts.  The phone base, the handset, and the bowl and all those hulls were all on the floor, littering my carpet!  And then the phone rang!

Dragon Slayer called to see how I was doing.  I said I was aggravated with myself, and told him about my brownies, the crash in the office with the phone and the peanuts, and the mess on the carpet, and the $150 fine!  And then . . . and then I started laughing.

As always, Dragon Slayer soothes the soul by saying I could talk to city hall and explain that I was qualified to park in the handicap, I just forgot to put my handicap plaque on my mirror.  And he thought my brownies were going to be just fine!  Because they were made with love!

After the call I thought about why I was making those brownies. And who those brownies were for – the homeless.  Jesus had said that when we give water to the thirsty, or feed the homeless, or clothe the naked, we are doing those things to Him.  I was making those brownies for HIM!  For Jesus!

So, would Jesus like my brownies? I decided to ask him about the brownies.  And you know what?  The quality of my brownies were not near as important to him as my desire to bless others, and the love and smiles I would take to those looking for something to eat.

I truly had a wonderful time downtown. I gave out the water bottles  and smiles at the end of the food line.  I only made 80 large brownies (120 had been my goal).    I think a miracle must have happened over night to those poor brown tiles.  People were going back for seconds!  I was told the brownies were delicious!

Later I helped hand out gloves and toiletries.  The folks were so grateful and gracious. And even more special, folks asked me to pray for them. I was able to encourage and pray for folks. I loved it!

I think Jesus does indeed like brownies that are make with love.

© Geneva Jean Moon and The Passionate Heart, 2009. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Geneva Jean Moon and The Passionate Heart with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.