She’s pregnant now, finishing her first trimester. Her taste for food is all out of whack, but she still loves pancakes.
It’s Sunday morning. We slept through both church services. Or rather, she did. On my lap. While I read a book on the couch for two hours. I’ve finished now, but I can’t bear stirring her. Even when my legs fall asleep, I don’t move.
It’s 11 a.m., and she’s hungry. I ask if she wants anything, but nothing sounds good. We are both used to this drill by now.
Eggs? She gives me a cross look.
Leftovers? She mumbles something about eating Mexican in the morning. Sounds like “no” to me.
Pancakes? This is a long shot, but I ask anyway. She nods approvingly. My wife always was a sucker for pancakes.
I get right to work.
Pouring a huge glob of vegetable oil into the pan, I turn the burner dial to “5”. I am still getting used to the electric stove. The pan heats up. Using a paper towel, I wipe off the excess oil.
Today is one of the many days we don’t have Pam. But we always have pancake mix.
Read the rest here: Pancakes
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I wrote this one morning towards the beginning of our first pregnancy. I had a lot of thoughts swirling in my mind about how our lives would change with a baby:
- What would happen to our lazy weekend routines?
- Our love for movies and late-night lounging?
- Our lack of desire to ever clean the house or plan a meal?
As with making pancakes, I realized that with creation, comes loss. This wasn’t a depressing thought for me, just a reality. Change always has a cost. And if I’m honest, that’s what makes it worth something.
How do you deal with change? Share in the comments.
*Photo credit: Xavier Encinas (Creative Commons)