Monday, June 22, 2009


It’s healthy to have a good fantasy life. At least that’s what I’m told.
So here it is Saturday evening 4:50pm and I am drifting into fantasy while driving into town to gas the car and buy groceries for the next week. I just dropped the kids at home after a whole day and a half of swimming and hanging with their cousins at grandmas. I was wiped- almost falling asleep…. When the fantasy hit.

I am tired and I really would like to go home. I would really like to soak in a big, hot bath- in a sunny, spacious bathroom. My fantasy bathrooms are always sunny and spacious, where the bathtub is so big and is surrounded by windows that are surrounded by woods- or a really nice walled off garden. So at this point, as soon as I realized I was fantasizing I took a quick reality check. Not going to happen. Because #1. We have a small (puny) tub, in a small interior bathroom (not sunny), and this small little tub is fed by a small little, less then perfectly functioning, hot water heater- and I know from experience that the little hot water heater can give you a 5 minute shower or run a load of diapers, and that in my last house the, bigger, nicer (working) water heater with twice the hot water was still just barely enough to fill our decent size whirlpool bath. (yes, I miss that bathtub, and that larger house more often then I would have thought)

So anyways, I thought I would just forget these details of my real life and see where the fantasy would lead me. And it led me, right after the nice long soak, to a clean bedroom- with my clothes laid out and waiting for me (and not being sat on by some little 5 year old with stinky pants who was waiting for me to vacate the bathroom). After that, I would emerge into the world…. refreshed, relaxed and clean in to a house that is clean and pretty- where someone even had taken the efforts to put out several bouquets of fresh, fragrant (lightly fragrant, and not overly strong) flowers in several locations, which served to add a dash of light and bright life to our living room- the flowers were in even in my (current) favorite colors of orange and yellow, highlighted with some greens and baby’s breath, that just seemed to say- welcome to your day.

And then I would enter the kitchen, the large, spacious, sunny kitchen. (did I mention clean and organized?) and there- spread on the table would be a light, healthy dinner- already for the family to eat. My kids would come in- scrubbed and tubbed- with their rosy cheeks glowing, wearing beautiful white, light weight summer PJs. They would smile at me as they entered and proceed to sit down quietly and fold their arms for prayer.
My hubby, smiling, would sneak up from behind me and cover my eyes and say “Guess what I made for you?” And then he’s show me some awesome desert- with chocolate and berries. He would let me have a taste, but make me promise to wait until after I enjoyed the main course. The kids would laugh gently and quietly fold their arms. The dinner would melt in my mouth and fill all of my nutritional voids for the day.

That is as far as my fantasy got before I arrived at the grocery store. Gassed the car, bought the groceries, drove home, made dinner, planted the tomatoes, bathed the kids, treated their sun burns, made treat and dropped like a ton of bricks.

Sometimes I look at my fantasies and think that I should full fill them- how can I get me life to be like my fantasy? Sometimes that’s a valid question. If I’m fantasizing about pancakes, then by golly, I should get off my butt and go make some. If I am fantasizing about a nice garden, then maybe I should works towards that goal. But if the fantasy is about something I really don’t care about or don’t really want (like life as a movie star), then maybe I should just ignore it. The problem with this fantasy is that it was right on the ragged edge of being able to pull off.

Do I put in the efforts required to reach the fantasy, or parts of it? Or do I chalk it up as crazy?

I didn’t know. So I bought myself some brownies at the grocery store and ate them on the way home.

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