Rats & Jelly Beans

Cute, right?  Yeah, well - not so much when you find out that this little creature - who visited you in the fall of 2010 - chewed holes through your dishwasher's drain tube (though my slowness to catch up and stupidity may be shining bright right now; I prefer that it was the rat from 2010 and not a more recent visitor).

This hole in the dishwasher drain tube, recently discovered after a two-week attempt to figure out why my floor is rotting and why there has been a pool of water under my sink, has led to bigger and more complex problems.

First of all, the dishwasher was never installed properly in the first place. The dishwasher drain tube was crammed into a spout on the disposal that was too small for the tube. This means that our installers smushed the drain tube and shoved it into the space, meaning that our dishwasher never worked at 100% but was always compromised. Second, the dishwasher itself was glued into place. This made it difficult for the Bosh repairman to slide it out and assess what was wrong.  It also means he will not be able to reinstall it because he would not be able to stand behind that work.

Anyway, my purpose is not to rant about my dishwasher woes (yes, there is much more to tell) but - rather - to relay the enlightenment that can take place even in the midst of household hell. (Don't forget - the dishwasher/leak saga occurred during a period of time where I was hosting an event for over 40 people, where my children came home with lice, and my husband was out of the country).

In the middle of all these wonderful challenges, I had a lightbulb light up over my head.  Literally.  I felt it.  It nudged me.  

And, it said "I don't need to eat jelly beans just because..." My healthy eating habits were put on the back banner when my grandma died, my children came home with lice, I was too busy cooking, fill in the blank.  And, each time something else happened, I moved further and further away from the eater I wanted to be.  It was a gentle knock on the head saying that I really don't have to eat jelly beans or have chocolate or dive into comfort food because these things were happening.  Not only that, I didn't even really want to.  It was merely a habit that I no longer needed, but I had not separated myself from the physical act of the habit yet.

Hmmm... ponder that. 

I knew I would be tested again.  Sure enough, I was.  We had fevers in the house, final days of lice prevention hair washing, and bigger & deeper issues with the sink leaking.  I had not enough time in my days to catch up on the laundry (don't forget, lice means changing sheets every day, covering couches, and putting everything into the dryer for 15 minutes - including backpacks - on a daily basis).  I still have dishes in my garage from the lunch that happened two Saturdays ago (Not proud - but it's true.  The dishes were rinsed, but not washed and - frankly - I forgot about them).

I knew the tests would come.

I was ready.

I prepared.

But, I 'failed'.

And that's ok.

You can't wait for everything to subside.

You can't wait for the right moment.

You can't wait for life to slow down.

It's not going to.

You have to start now.

You have to do it in the midst of the chaos.

You have to do it while anticipating the next thing that will throw you off course.

"The time is now, the place is here. Stay in the present. You can do nothing to change the past, and the future will never come exactly as you plan or hope for." (Dan Millman)