It’s late here, past 10pm, and I’m up reflecting on the day. It was a difficult day for me, but that’s relative to my life, and overall I know my life is blessed. I had a disagreement with someone important to me and I’m getting over weeks of being sick. All that aside, I went to our new home today with the kids and attempted to do a few Mrs. Fix-It repairs while my one year old was loudly protesting, and I was mildly successful. The kitchen sink “under cabinet” area is water damaged and warped, kind of textured and just an eye sore. I wanted to spruce it up a bit while also making it more durable. Enter: peel and stick vinyl floor tiles. I got one package for ten dollars and, after cleaning and sanding the bottom of the cabinet, peeled and stuck them. I picked a busier tile pattern because, lets be honest, life needs more whimsey, and under the kitchen sink is a pretty safe place to experiment with fun floor tile. Here’s a before and after pic:

For dinner, I made stuffed peppers because my husband was working and he hates stuffed peppers, so I shot my shot with the kids and served them up a meal I loved as a kid. Classic, nostalgic, Betty Crocker. What could go wrong? They’re covered in melted cheese. The results were decidedly mixed. We have a one-bite rule in this house, and the kids were cooperative with that, but obviously I want my children to eat their homemade, nourishing food. I began thinking out loud, “I wonder why this recipe was invented. Maybe the family didn’t have bowls so they used bell peppers as bowls to hold their meat and rice…” They took the bait and we started to world-build this poor family who had to use vegetables as dishes. “You know, this is a really old-fashioned recipe. I bet Nancy Drew ate this.” I told them. My seven year old was not convinced. “I’ve read a lot of her books, and she never mentions stuffed peppers.” she told me, as she distractedly finished her ENTIRE stuffed pepper. “Although,” she continued, “I’ve only read the younger series. Maybe she eats them in the older series.” She could be right. To be completely honest, I’m just thankful that my girls went to bed with full bellies and I have leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Changing the stories we tell ourselves can help. I can either be a victim of the laundry and the drudgery and the dishes, or I can celebrate it, find beauty in it, light a candle while I scrub plates and put some pretty tiles under the sink. Lord, I pray to be better at the latter.