When I woke up this morning I had basic expectations for the day: clean the house, run an errand, go to the grocery store. I noticed the gloomy clouds outside but it didn’t really phase me. I grabbed a yogurt and started making a cup of coffee. Regular. Normally I drink decaf, but my daughter was up for over an hour (teething) in the middle of the night and I was struggling to wake up.
I found myself busy getting each child ready and fed, throwing in some laundry, running the garbage out, and getting myself ready. Most of this was done with my unusually clingy daughter in my arms. Inevitably, I forgot about my coffee until it was too late – No longer hot. My morning coffee usually ends this way. Hot cup of coffee sitting under my Keurig, getting cold as we get ready for the day. I decide I will drink it anyway and transfer it to a mug, to-go. Sigh. I miss hot coffee.
Crash! The first thunderclap rattles my home, and my son. Terrified, he sprints from the other room. In his panic, he slips and falls, smacking hard onto the floor. Many hugs later, we’re loaded in the car. I explain to him that thunder is just a noise and that rain makes things grow. I like the rain.
I ask him, what’s a little rain?
We start driving and the sky opens up. Monsoon style. Thankful for the lights of the car in front of me, I focus on staying in our lane as the wipers furiously work to give me a quick glimpse of the road. Yikes. Probably should have looked at the weather. This is not going as planned.
Finally, as we pull into our destination, the rain lets up and we rush inside. We run into a friend in the hallway. She mentions that she too hasn’t had any coffee yet. Ugh! I forgot my mug at home. We continue with our other errands.
We find a DRY shopping cart (Phew) and get our shopping done fast. I begin to notice freshly drenched people running in and wiping water off their faces and glasses. Oh boy…maybe it will let up.
It doesn’t. Usually I’d brave it, but we’re not properly dressed and this is a torrential downpour. We wait 5 minutes. A man comes in, dripping wet, and offers to stand with my kids outside while I run and get the car. Untrusting, I say thank you but that we will wait. We wait 5 more minutes. It doesn’t let up. It begins to thunder, loudly. My poor toddler begins to lose it so we make a run for the car.
What’s a little rain?
Our rain coats were left in daddy’s car from the weekend. My kids have on their winter coats with hoods, they stay relatively dry. I am in a sweatshirt. Poor planning. I load the kids quickly, removing their soaked coats so they can be warm in the car. I load my drenched groceries in the trunk and return the cart. One of my shoes gets filled with water from the river streaming through the parking lot. My cheap, plastic shoe is emptied before closing my car door.
I am soaked. My groceries are soaked. My purse is soaked. I close the door and look back and my son and he laughs at my wet hair. I look. It is a mess, plastered to my forehead, windblown and matted down. My daughter, not wanting to miss out on fun, starts fake laughing, which generates real laughter from both of them, and from me.
That is what you call a LOT of rain.
We get half way home and the gas light comes on. Apparently our sprint in the rain is making me giddy. I start cracking up. Of course we need gas. It is that kind of day. Plus, it’s not like I have to worry about getting wet. We stop for gas, grateful for the roof.
I get back in the car and my son tells me the rain makes the plants grow. He tells me something I tell him all the time – that rain was made by God and God only makes good things.
Truth, retold by a 3 year old, sounds so sweet.
I unload the kids at home. I dry off our groceries and make lunch. I run to change my clothes while they are eating. My teething daughter needs to be rocked to sleep, but my son wants me in his room, afraid of thunder that isn’t present at the moment. I can’t do both. I explain to my son that the rain has slowed. I rock my daughter as my son cries for me to come back. She falls asleep and I lay her down just as the thunder returns with vengeance.
I move my son into my room and make him a bed on the floor. I tell him I’ll lay down too but he needs to try to rest. I can tell he is tired and may actually sleep today. I plan to wait until he is asleep and do some reading. I wake up an hour later, he’s sleeping and apparently so have I. Can’t remember the last time I took a nap! Lovely. Probably couldn’t have done that with coffee in my system.
When we get up, I throw some coffee grounds into the French Press, fill it with water and stick it in the fridge. Iced coffee tomorrow. At least I don’t have to worry about it getting cold. No fuss, no mess. Recalling my error in looking up the weather this morning, I look up tomorrow’s weather. It should be nice. Tomorrow I can have my coffee break outside as the kids play.
This day did not go as expected. I did not clean my house and I did not finish all my errands. I did not enjoy a cup of coffee. But, I did make some silly memories getting soaked in the rain, and spent time comforting my kids. Despite the unplanned weather, we have groceries to make dinner. I call that success. We can finish that other stuff up tomorrow.
So I ask again, What’s a little rain?
Today it was a surprise to me, unpredictable and out of my control. Rain washes things away, leaving behind something wet, moldable, and messy. Today rain changed what was likely to be just like any other routine Monday and added some excitement. We did get wet, but we also laughed.We laughed hard.
The rain created new opportunity, changed the pace of our day and left me feeling thankful that it did.
My son says his favorite part of today was seeing other people getting soaked in the rain. Me too.