Fire to my brain....and then to my kitchen.

...I'm always thinking.

This day I was standing in my kitchen thinking.

But this was a deeper, more meditative sort of thinking-- about my blog, of all things, and how I want to improve it. 

My thoughts went from meditative to impatient rather quickly, and the ugly, indecisive part of my mind started to take over.
It went something like this:

I should blog now... but I'm uninspired...

I should blog about how I'm uninspired...

maybe I'll just put clothes on and take a picture....

I hate outfit post....

I am not a fashion blogger....

I really like getting clothes in the mail though....

WHAT THE HELL IS MY BLOG EVEN ABOUT?..... 

My blog is about my kids....

they're so cute....

they're growing up too fast....

I want to blog about them....

they're too special to let everyone know about them....

what am I making for dinner? 

what if when they're older they hate that I let the 'World' in on their lives?...

what if when they're older they resent me for the time I spent blogging?....

I'll make tacos for dinner

I wish I could go through my moms old stuff....

I wish I knew what was in her brain back then.....

They'll love my blog....

I need to get less commercial....

But I  need to get more commercial if I want it to grow.....

I need to stop being so personal.....

Where's the oil? I'll defrost the meat now, warm the oil.... Do I have cheese?

I need a set schedule...

I despise schedules, though......

I don't even know what I'm doing.....

I'm out of salsa.

I should be doing laundry....

WHY am I even thinking about this?! ....

why do I even care? 

...then, I walk out of the kitchen.

To make a long story shorter....I left the pot of oil I was warming on my stove burner and forgot all about it. It caught fire. Like huge fire. In the moment of realization that my whole stove was engulfed in flames and my house was filling up with smoke rather quickly, things became crystal clear.

My thoughts were methodical and thorough.

1. Its an oil fire.

2. get the kids out of the house

3. no water on an oil fire

4. smother the fire.

5. get the smoking, flaming pot out of the house.

In the disastrous kitchen scene I walked into, I somehow knew where everything was exactly when I needed it. Those pot holders I can never, ever seem to find were on both my hands before I knew it, and my huge crock pot lid was over the flames. Remi had spilled water on the floor earlier that morning and I had left the damp clothe on floor right by the stove all day. I picked the damp clothe up and put it over the lid and still flaming/smoking pot and walked right out my unlocked sliding back door that is ordinarily secured by a metal peg in a tiny hole from the bottom right corner---miraculously that metal peg wasn't in place.

done. 

it was done.

disaster averted. 

I'm not trying to make this seem like it was a near death experience or anything crazy...but it was somewhat of an eye opener for me. My children never came into the "danger zone" and were perfectly obedient, un-frightened, and patiently waiting for me to get them when everything was over.  The door being unlocked..? Having a wet clothe ready and waiting at the floor of the stove for me? Not panicking at all and knowing exactly what to do and where to go....I can't deny that there were tiny miracles that happened in that instance. 

And about my blog-

Just as my thoughts about how to deal with the fire became clear and precise, so did my thoughts about this space.

I want this space to be a place where women (and men, too) come to relate, to laugh, to learn, to see the beauty in every day life and the beauty that is in themselves...I want my children and family to cherish this blog in the next 40 years, and hopefully show their grandkids what their old, crazy Grandma Weslie was like. I want to share everything I love with everyone whether it be people, experiences, other bloggers, stories, products, intriguing facts--whatever! If I love it, I want you to know about it.

 I can only be me, and that's what you'll get here....all of me.