The Experience that Started the List

The incessant fire alarm cried for the third time. I came downstairs to find Andrew standing on the dining room chair, waving the pot holder at the ear piercing box to clear the smoke around it as he’d seen me do the first and second times only minutes earlier. A smoky haze filled the downstairs, so I opened the window and door once again. This has become a usual occurrence in our lives.

No, I haven’t burnt dinner (this time), but I do need to add cleaning my stove to the list of what one must take care of when living alone.

Until seven months ago, I had never lived on my own. I’d gone from my parents' house to living with my ex-husband and completely bypassed that learning experience. And it has been ummm…. interesting. Some have called me a bit of a princess (or worse) in my life because of what I’m willing to do or not do in terms of work around the house. All of that has had to change though.

Within the first couple of weeks of living on my own, I managed to lite two towels on fire at the stove. Luckily, I don’t panic… much, and I managed to throw them into the sink to put them out. I’ve set the fire alarm off so many times that the kids no longer panic as they did the first, second, or fifth time.

I’ve gone to work and left a candle lit all day. I once forgot to lock the door before I went to work. With no one to come behind me and remind me, I have realized my inattention to small details. My tendency to be impatient and always in a rush doesn’t help.

I’ve had to learn how to hang things on the wall, which means most things on my walls are far from straight. I’ve had to learn to be okay with that, and the perfectionist in me took a while with that one. I’ve had to unclog toilets when my daughter has stuffed them with paper, and unfortunately, no one cleans or picks up when I don’t have time due to all the running around I do.

Even with all I’ve done on my own, there are two things that I struggle with that I refused to do my entire life before now, and that would be to cut the grass or to wash the car.

When I was a teenager in high school, my father decided I was going to learn to cut grass. We entered into a battle of wills, and I won that battle hands down. I never even stepped foot onto the front porch to approach the lawn mower. Years later, I grew tired of waiting for the grass to be cut for a flower bed I was trying to design, so I attempted the lawn mower myself. Within five minutes someone took pity on my inaptness and finished the job. That was my only experience cutting grass.

I simply avoided this task by moving into an apartment. Maintenance does a wonderful job, and I’ve actually weighed buying a house with not cutting grass, and so far the not cutting grass part is winning.

The car on the other hand has proven a challenge. Not only do I have to worry about actually bringing it in to get its oil changed (I’m not touching that one), but it does need to be cleaned once in a while. I’m perfectly content driving through the car wash even with the extra cost, but my son, on the other hand, wishes to wash it. He does a great job, but unfortunately, it requires my help. So welcome to washing the car, willing or not.

Even with the high learning curve, I wouldn’t change any of it. It doesn’t feel like too long ago when I wondered if I could do it; live on my own and take care of everything that came up. I’ve proven to myself daily that I will find a solution to any problem that arises though, and I love every minute of it. Without this first step, I would never have created that list of thirty-three experiences, which it’s time I get back to.