Fearfully and Wonderfully Made-God's words, not mine

Yippee!! Derek's grilling salmon tonite! I love when he grills. It means I don't have to cook. However, I'm trying to catch up with the dishes so we don't have to eat it out of bundt cake pans with measuring spoons. Not kidding. The dishwasher's broken and I don't function so well without it. He's also cooking grilled veggies, but I won't partake. My idea of a veggie is a baked potato. Starchy, I know. But who cares? It's yummy. My mom said vegetables wouldn't kill me and I needed to eat them. And here's what happened.

I found a veggie I liked. Artichoke. I ate it once or twice, and then took some to work with me at the emergency room where I was a nurse. Guess what. It almost killed me. About ten minutes after I ate it, with some chicken and pasta, my face felt tight, I got hot and sweaty, and my scalp felt like it was on fire. NOT in the good way either. I was standing near a physician's assistant (like doctor express) and I said, "Is my face red?" She turned and looked at me, and had the situation not been so potentially dangerous, she would have laughed out loud. It was like the scene in "Pure Luck" when Martin Short gets bee stung. Or like Wil Smith in "Hitch" where he has a food reaction. They got some meds pumped into me (do NOT take oral steroids without a sweet drink nearby) shot me with epinepherine, and just like that I got the rest of the day off. With a benadryl hangover. It's almost worth precariously clinging to life just to get half a day off. Ah, good times.

I'm eating salmon now because I'm supposed to increase my Omega-3's. And protein. Apparently I have adult ADD which means part of my brain is very low functioning. That would be the organization part of my brain, all you comedians. This explains why I'm bad at math and housework but still quite creative. I'm bad at planning, but react very efficiently in emergencies. It's why I use "thingy" in sentences a lot, because it's way easier than using valuable time to actually think of an appropriate word. Or why I'll need to yell for Derek while I'm looking at the clock, but I yell out "6:47!" rather than his name. Well, that may be something else entirely. I've always felt like a failure as a wife and mother because I don't seem to possess the ability to Martha Stewartize my house. My mom and sister are amazing decorators, cooks, and housekeepers. I'm not a bad cook, I just don't cook for crowds because I have to do it my own way, and people don't always understand my own way. So I'm left asking if I can just stir. My family will tell you it's my spiritual gift. Forget prophecy and shepherding. We need some really proficeint stirrers in the Kingdom. I AM THAT HERO!!

So it wasn't until the counselor told me to "only use my powers for good" that I started seeing the positive sides of my quirkiness. All the poor grades, the procrastination, the disorganization had a purpose. It was God's plan that my brain work the way it does. I do have to find other ways to have a pleasing household. I do need to be a good steward of my time, I just have to do it differently than others. But I was lovingly and precisely stitched together by God long before time began. He had a plan for my life, a plan not to harm me, but to prosper me. And you know what? I still can't figure out how people keep beds made or why we even bother, but I'm learing how to use my creative brain. I'm learning that the gift of laughter is good. I make people happy. I make people feel very normal and capable. I'm ok with that. I just need to figure out how to turn a profit so I can hire a cleaning lady. Although, Derek said if I ever made a million, he'd be my wife. He IS a good cook...