This morning as I stood at the kitchen counter at 6:30 making Reas a lunch to take to work, I had one of those flash forward episodes. Now before I am mistaken for the perfect wife, I don't always make his lunch. I don't even usually make his lunch. I used to be much better at it, but apparently with baby #4 I make a few more excuses for myself. Someday I might be that wife. I hope I will be. This morning was a rare occassion. So like I was saying, I was making his sandwich and decided I may as well make Maggie's too since everything was out. So I pulled out two more slices of bread. Four slices lay before me on the counter in that mostly dark, still quiet kitchen. Then my head started to swirl and I swear I saw little twinkle stars all around me. Suddenly I was wearing the same grey bathrobe my Mom always wore and her fuzzy white hightop slippers. I no longer had four slices of bread, but 14! I was happily slapping together sandwich after sandwich after sandwich, and greeting each groggy member of the family who stumbled through the kitchen with the cheeriest good morning you ever heard. Whoa! This is SO not me. Will it be someday? Is it possible? Then I was myself again and grateful that I only had to make two sandwiches. But, when Reas came walking into the kitchen and I turned to say good morning to him, it surprised me how much I sounded like my mom. It's funny when I see glimpses of myself becoming her. And if I become anything like her, it will be a great thing. Being able to happily pack school lunches for lots of kids and a husband is only one of her qualities I hope to inherit. And boy, she packed 'em good. For example, I'm sure we were the only kids to ever get cake in a cup. Anytime there was leftover cake, pie, or any kind of frosted deliciousness we would get it in our lunch the next day at school. She'd put it in a plastic cup with plastic wrap rubberbanded over the top. Yes, I know it sounds funny. Go ahead and laugh. All my friends did too. But I know they were really just jealous that their mom didn't take the time to keep their cake from getting smashed in their lunch bag...if they even had cake.

Here's another bread story. Don't what's causing this. Baking season perhaps? When I was like 7 0r 8, we'll say 7...before the age of accountability, my mom sent me out to the garage to get a loaf of bread out of the freezer. It was rock solid, so I thought I'd help her out by breaking all the slices apart. I began swinging the bag around and hitting it on the edge of the freezer. I was smart, I tell ya. Obviously, the bag busted open, throwing slices of bread all over the dirty garage floor. Must Hide Evidence. There were plenty more loaves in the freezer, so no one needed to know. I just needed to find somewhere to hide all the bread. Looking back, the obvious answer would have been to throw it in the outside trash, or better yet, tell my mom the truth. It was an accident. Maybe kind of a dumb one, but still. Instead, I scooped it all up and threw it over the wall into the neighbor's backyard. I'm a tricky one.

And one last tale from my bready past before sending you on your way. It's not a funny one. It's a Christmas one actually, because well, tis the season. EVERY single year at Christmastime my Mom would make loaves and loaves of homemade bread that we'd wrap up, top with a bow, load up into the van and take to all our friends. Everyone loves her bread. I remember passing out those loaves of fresh bread on cold nights and they'd all say, "Ooooooooooh, it's still warm!" I remember how nice it was holding a warm loaf in my lap while riding around the town in a chilly van. It was so fun to make friends so happy. So this year, we're going to do the same thing. I'm going to pull out Mom's recipe and spend a day in the kitchen with the kids. I wish all of you were near enough for us to deliver warm bread to your doorstep. Be sure though, I am thinking of all of you no matter the distance. I am grateful for friends and family who lift me up and inspire me to do better. Can't wait to spread the joy...and the butter. Merry Christmas, friends!