(…is the new Plan A)
So, I have fantastic plans made for New Years Eve. The plans include dinner reservations at a swanky sushi restaurant, followed by a house party. (Just a little house party, thrown by friends who throw together a little website about what they’ll be serving at this little house party–I know. I have such cool friends that sometimes it makes me feel like I’m plagiarizing someone else’s life. Someone much cooler. Who am I? Where did you find me? HOW ARE WE EVEN FRIENDS??)
I’m all dressed and glittered up. Brock’s all excited and packed up. We jump in the car ready to go to the babysitters. As we head out, B gets violently ill. Poor B.
Turn the car around. Get home and put Brock to bed. Wash the glitter off my eyes and put the sweats on. Grab a glass of wine and cozy up on the couch to usher in the New Year in the company of my journal.
As I begin journalling about 2012, I start noticing a theme in my year. A pattern.
There were some Plan B’s that were life altering. Many were not. For example, Brock and I had planned an elaborate outing one day this fall. We had planned a trip up to Milwaukee to attend a play at a children’s theatre, have lunch at a new kid-friendly restaurant, and meet a rattlesnake. The plan was perfect.
On our way there, we hit a detour in the road. As is often the case, the detour led me somewhere near the border of Canada. Or Mexico. Couldn’t quite figure out what Siri was trying to say.
Oh, hey Plan B!
You know what, though? Plan B was perfect.
We spent the afternoon enjoying the town’s culture, art, history, and scenery. (And all that for free. I mean, when is free not the best plan?)
We also enjoyed the town’s treats. Naturally.
But what made Plan B perfect was enjoying each other’s company.
The more I have processed 2012, the more I have realized how redemptive Plan B’s can be. Seems the Plan B’s have often turned out better than what I had anticipated the Plan A’s to be.