Hungry Girl

"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall." - Proverbs 16:18 (NIV)

Pride goeth before the fall. I cannot tell you how many times I've heard those words. Believe me, I need to hear them. I have a bad habit of being real proud of myself when I do something well or when I think I'm doing a better job than someone else at something.

I had my share of pride yesterday and then, of course, a fall....


I've been working hard all week cleaning out closets, packing up old clothes, organizing our office (that has been a "catch-all" for the two years that we've lived here), on top of keeping up with the other house cleaning, laundry washing, and child-rearing... Why's it called child-rearing? That's so funny to me...


Yesterday afternoon, I was "Playing Peggy" (I do it when I want to be like my Granny). On this particular day, I was trying to be like Granny by starting my "supper" right after lunch. DW had gone back to the office after lunch and I'd already started planning what deliciousness I'd cook for dinner. I'd be like Granny and have all afternoon for my peas to cook and by the time DW got home, he'd have one of his all time favorite meals waiting on him.


I was feeling all kind of wonderfully domesticated and like I'd been doing such a wonderful job taking care of my home and my family. Everything was straight and in it's place, peas were on the stove, precious was down for a nap and I was already planning my Wife of the Year acceptance speech for later that evening when my darling got home from work and saw what I'd cooked especially for him for dinner.


I don't cook them often, because they aren't really my thing. But, oh, are they his!

My man loves him some chicken and dumplings, add some acre peas that have cooked all afternoon and some cast-iron cooked corn bread, and he's about as happy as it gets.

Yep, I was on a roll for sure. I was doing quite well in my "Playing Peggy" role of the day. She'd have even been proud of the cornbread.

About that time, little miss woke up from her nap and decided it was time to play. I was back and forth checking on my peas that were still cooking on the stove and playing with her. I'd gotten up to check the peas and heard her crawling off... I knew where she was headed and didn't think she'd get there much faster than me. I'd add some water to my pot of peas and be right behind her. 10 seconds later, she was already in Cooper's room, and was chewing on something. Neither of these are unusual. His room is always the first one she goes to and she's ALWAYS putting something in her mouth. Yall, I could vacuum my house 5 times a day and she'd still find something to put in her mouth. I mean the most minuscule things that I couldn't possibly find even if I was wearing a jewelers eye. I don't know how she does it. When she puts something in her mouth, though, she only chews on it. She doesn't swallow, she moves it from side to side and rolls it around on her tongue. Well, she probably doesn't swallow whatever it may be because she doesn't have time to, before we're digging it out of her mouth. When I asked her what she was chewing on (I know, like she'd answer), she looked at me and smiled so big and just kept moving it from side to side. I couldn't see anything at first. Then she stuck out her tongue and there it was. Yall, my baby was chewing on a bug. I know. Call DCF, HRS, or whoever it is to report unfit mothers. I immediately started digging for it, praying she wouldn't swallow. Chewing on a bug sounds so much better than actually EATING a bug... doesn't it? She clinched those sweet teeth shut and I worked just as hard to pry them open, digging and begging her to let me have it. I was on the verge of tears (dramatic, I know) when I finally rescued the bug and saved my child from having to say she'd once eaten a bug. She was none to happy about it, but one day after I have my blog printed and bound for us to look back on, she's going to thank me that I didn't let her be a bug eater.

I scooped her up and put her in the kitchen with me, in her walker and gave her some cheerios to snack on.

As I finished cooking dinner, my head hung low and my "Wife/Mother of the Year" nomination stripped from me, all I could think was: "Pride goeth before the fall."

The next thing I could hear was DW when he'd got home and I told him that I'd let his sweet precious daughter chew on a bug. Then I was glad I'd cooked his favorite for dinner...

I heard him pull up in the driveway and I poured him a big glass of sweet tea and met him at the door with a smile and a hug. He grabbed up Annabelle and put her in her high chair and we sat down for dinner. He took the lid off the pot and said, "CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS?!?!? MMMM, I've been wanting some of these!" I let him take a few bites and relish in their goodness (there I go again, with that pride thing) and then I asked Annabelle if she was going to tell Daddy what SHE did today or should we just let him read about it on my blog. She didn't answer. I wasn't surprised since the only thing she says is "Da-Da"--- so I told him the story. He couldn't believe his baby girl was trying to be a bug eater. He also told her that "if she was trying to save us money by eating bugs, instead of needing baby food, that it was real sweet, but she didn't need to eat bugs." Ha...

And this little miss decided she'd give up eating bugs, but wanted to try some peas... and boy did she love them... she had 4 "Belle-sized" helpings of them!

I'm going to work on the pride thing. I'm know it'll be a lifelong battle for me. Just when I think I've gotten it all together and got the wife/mother thing down pat, I am quickly reminded that we all fail in one way or another---no one's perfect---and there's no set "right" way of doing things---we're all different and as long as we're doing the best we can, that's all that matters... I'm not sure if this is prideful or not, but I just hope my best isn't letting my kid eat bugs!

~annie~