I dream of dishwashers

I used to like doing dishes. I found it therapeutic-you are cleaning something that is dirty and you can immediately see the results and be satisfied. Now I find that I long for a dishwasher. The appliance, that is. A little box with a door that opens, revealing racks where you can stick your dirty dishes. Then you put soap in a little cubby hole, shut the door, turn a dial, and listen as the friendly box swishes the water and soap around, washing your dishes. Remarkable. Miraculous. When I get one I will name it and take very good care of it, always.


My husband and I celebrated our anniversary last week. Our 4th anniversary. We stayed home and kept twin 10 month old girls who were not very happy for us, not even when we told them it was our anniversary! Jay and I were a good team, and I was proud of his baby skills, and patience (mostly) with the little girls. On Saturday we used the money we made to go out to eat and see a movie, both of which we hadn't done in a long long time. It was almost surreal to me. Jay opening the door for me. Standing at the box office. Sitting and whispering in the dark as the movie started. It's funny how you get used to doing or not doing certain things. We used to go out all the time. Now we are learning how to be responsible adults living on one income with a baby, and one on the way. Very sobering. And yet we are so blessed. I look back at all the Ebeneezers in my life and I am stilled and quieted.


I shaved last night with a new blade on my Venus razor. I find that I can shave and shave and shave on one blade, and lose all track of how long I've been shaving with that blade. It's like I am slowly desensitized to the increasing dullness of my razor, until I shave and just accept that the results are shaved legs, exactly what shaved legs should feel like. Then one day I realize...boom...my razor is dull as goose poop (a very interesting simile that I have heard my whole life and I greatly enjoy it). And my dull razor is giving me razor burn, tearing up my legs and leaving me prickly like no razor named Venus should. So I switch blades, lather up my cactus legs and go at it. The results are astounding. Now these are shaved legs, my friend. The whole situation makes me think about settling, about getting used to mediocrity and how it can sneak up on you. Fight for excellence! Demand truth! Demand to be sharpened and challenged! Don't walk around with prickly nicked legs! No es bueno!