Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Chaos Theory


Little things throw me for a loop. I don't mean a measly hula hoop loop, I mean a gigantic Ferris wheel sort of a loop that lurches and blows a gasket and implodes into a steaming pile of rubble. It's only one of the many charming aspects of my personality. It's the aspect just to the right of Arbitrary Perfectionism, and kitty-corner to Easily Over-Stimulated. Now that the cat's out of the bag, let's take a moment to consider the miracle it is that I have a husband. And friends.

Speaking of husbands, last Sunday as we gathered our things to head out for my niece's first birthday party (already 5 minutes late), I took the cover off the cake for one last "once over" before we hit the road. The butterfly that stared back at me was a stranger. Its orange sugar-gilded wings were a mass of what looked like orange tears, sending their tiny trails of stain over the frosting...frosting that had cracks spreading like, well, the butterfly effect, from antennae to whatever the opposite of antennae is. It was a mess and so was I.

I asked my husband to look ("TYYYYY!!!!!"). He peaked over my convulsing shoulders and said something casual like, "Nice! I like it! It looks like that finish that...you know...what's that called?"

Me: "Do you mean a 'crackle finish'?"

Ty: "Yeah! Just tell 'em you meant to do it. People pay hundreds of dollars to get that effect."

Me: "On furniture. Not on CAKES!!"

Ty: "Sure they do. It looks great. They'll love it. Let's go."

And with that we were off. And no one cared (except me), and my mother-in-law even thought I made the "veining" on purpose. And it made me think about perspective.

Because most often I have a lousy perspective. A perspective that is always quick to whine and feel picked-on.

I need to work on seeing my life from outside my own box.



Take this corn for instance. Doesn't it look like a nice harvest to feed a crowd?




Step back a ways, and you'll notice that all twelve ears are the size of a cell phone. And not even a cell phone from 1989.



Change your perspective yet again, though, and you'll notice how easy it is to butter those tiny cobs. Plus you can have the satisfaction of telling (with a self-righteous curl of the lip) other mothers, when they complain about trying to get their kids to eat, "My kids ate four cobs of corn EACH last night!"

Perspective is totally rad.

(even if it's not 1989).

14 comments:

Amber said...

I love corn and all things tiny (unlike my thighs, or my double chin) so I certainly would LOVE me some itty bitty corn. And we are friends because you say things like rad. And we will stop being friends if you stop saying things like rad, oh and if you continue to make fantastically crafty (and apparently crackly) cakes of that nature. You'll make me look bad. And I can't have that. And as far as perspective goes, I usually lean towards the negative or judgmental perspective. Is that a type of perspective? Do perspectives have types. Wow, I need a candy bar after that deep thought. Okay, peace out.

sharlee said...

You are so right. Why must we always fear the worst and assume everything's going to hell in a handbasket? Breathe... that's what I need to tell myself.

p.s. You're posts make my posts look like a boring text book that no one wants to read. A MATH textbook!

Rozel (a.k.a. Michelle) said...

I can tell you are thirty because your post are O-so-wise. It is true. Life is about perspective. When we realize that it is much easier to understand, thus tolerate others. I just hope the "others" will tolerate me.

Elisabeth (and Tyler) said...

If I ever don't comment on a post of yours, it's probably just because I can't put into words how awesome I think you are. I'll keep trying, bear with my cousin dear. And ditto to what Sharlee said :) I totally want to be you..

Stephanie said...

I can't tell you how many times in my life I wish I could have stepped outside of me to see the whole picture...thank heaven for a bad memory, or the list would be much longer!

Andrea said...

Amber, you are one of the least judgmental persons I know, so I'm not buying it.

Sharlee, I LOVE math textbooks.

Rozel (Can I call you Rozie - I've been dying to nick that name), you're right. I'm so flippin' wise now. And I like to read your comment with emphasize on "others" that makes "them" sound like weird-o losers. I'm also very mature now that I'm 30.

Elisabeth, my blog is honored by your presence, comment or no, you darling girl.

Andrea said...

Oh, and Stephanie (you must have posted a comment while I was posting my comment), the only good thing to be said about getting old is forgetting our mistakes. I figure in a few years I will have been perfect right now!

Marianne said...

I really liked this post! Have I ever told you to write a book? I may have mentioned that once or twice or ten times.

Sharlee- I liked your comment. I can't believe you said (whispered) hell! And your blog posts are not like reading a boring math book!

Christy said...

LOVED this post. Nothing more to say than what everyone has already said. You are awesome. I am so glad I met you over a year ago... scrapbooking. :)

sharlee said...

Forgot to say what an awesome cake! I love the candle antennae! Brilliant.

Debbie and Boys said...

Hey-beautiful cake. But I must say as I clicked on your blog I saw that you've had like almost a thousand views!!!
Wow girl! That is really very awesome.
I think you have more friends and fans than you realize!
(Also, corn brings back such good childhood memories for me. mmmm.)

Emily said...

Is the cake pictured the one that you were upset about? Because I can't see anything wrong with it. Really! You should see some of the birthday cake fiascos I've come up with. So far, I've never been asked to bring a cake to anyone else's party.

Emily said...

P.S.
I love that we have the same dress. You don't know how cool that makes me feel - like I have totally arrived.

We may not have seen each other in years, but we're still Borg. ;)

Rozel (a.k.a. Michelle) said...

P.S. I just ate some corn from my parents garden that was just as small. It must be a small-corn-year!