I woke up today with an immensely odd craving for blueberry pancakes. You see, I’m more of a breakfast burrito kind of gal; bacon, potatoes, burn your taste buds right off hot sauce. Savory’s my game. And until now, my pregnancy has lacked the thrilling side effects Hollywood’s most notoriously appetite-less women would have you believe are normal. I stared at the ceiling in our bedroom contemplating how in the world it’s possible that I have never in my life made pancakes. How absurd.
Equipped with a fancy from-scratch recipe, I progressed slow and determined through the isles of our tiny grocery store. Still bleary-eyed with interrupted sleep I nearly missed the familiar package of Krusteaz pancake mix my mom always used. Studying the simple instructions on the back of the bag I chuckled at the realization that we do not even own a whisk, the one of three necessary items to get this done the easy way. So long cake flour, almond extract, and baking soda, Krusteaz and Mrs. Butterworth never let my own mother down, why mess with success?
Unburdened with what was sure to be a hopeless effort, I picked up some Visine and made my way through the checkout line. My eyes are still a little puffy and red from last night’s major meltdown. Infuriatingly typical, at nine months pregnant and only a few hours from the dreaded 3-0, I completely lost my cool. I was hit hard by the big questions: What if I can’t let go of selfishness? How will my marriage suffer? What if I’m a bad mother? What’s left to look forward to? And the smaller questions: What if I’m never fun again? What if I can’t eliminate Nutella from my daily diet? Why oh why didn’t I plan for a birth not immediately preceding swimsuit season?
Some answers are easier to journey toward than others but my first taste of blueberry flapjack had a zen-like effect. There is no need to over-complicate an already complex life, go with your gut, learn and grow together, as a family. On my 30th birthday, when I think the world has no surprises left for me, our little lady showed me sometimes it’s nice to wake up and find out you’re wrong.