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| "Mmm...kids, this tastes like ice. Just the way I like it." |
I just finished experiencing something I haven't in a great while; the chicken soup I just drank out of a questionable-looking Tupperware bowl was hot....I mean really, really hot....steamy...red pepper flakes...eyes melted from sockets hot. I believe it's been almost two years since I've had an honest-to-goodness warm meal, which happens to coincide with the birth of the twins. Coincidence? Fate? Chubby fingers waiving for more chicken nuggets and canned corn?...Something is indeed frozen in the state of Denmark.
I always come at dinner with the best of intentions. I dawn my apron, high heels, perky attitude and decide that this night will be the night we all sit down and have dinner, together. The twins are served just as Husband gets home, and, after I've handed him his plate, all looks right with the world. I go to sit down...
"Honey?"
I smile. "Yes, dearest?"
"Would you be so kind as to grab me a Coke?"
"I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing. Be right back."
A quick scan confirms the babies are already half-way through their food. Husband has just started, my food is sitting on the table losing steam. I go and return.
"Thanks, Hon."
At this point, I realize the time it took to make it to the refrigertor gifted the twins time to get three-fourths of the way through their meal. I sit down quickly and assess whether I can live off half the noodles, a bite of salad, or if drinking the salad dressing will suffice as a meal. Didn't I see five different vegetables on the bottle?
Risking it, I shove a fork-full of fetucinni in my mouth. The coolness of the sauce also cools my will to live.
"Ma?"
"Yes, my love?"
"I done."
"Are you sure?"
"I done."
"OK, let me grab a washcloth and I'll be right there."
"I done now."
Longingly, I lay my head on the soggy bed of lettuce and give it a final farewell rub with my forehead. I trot to the kitchen, grab the washcloth and clean everyone up. Husband has finished and returned his dishes to the kitchen. I am reminded...
"Cookie."
"Right. I forgot your desert. OK, have a cookie, while I go finish dinner." Grabbing my plate, I look at the cold, squishy monster from outer space that used to be my dinner. Bracing myself, I lift a pile of icy food to my mouth.
"Ma?"
"Yes?"
"Story? Read? Mama?"
I set down my fork, return my plate to the kitchen and sit down on the couch. "Yes babies, I'll read you a story. Have you heard the one about the mother who loved her children so much she starved to death? It's a riot."
Feel free to share any similar experiences. I may need to start a support group...
Until Next Time, Readers!
Posts
despite myself not having had a hot or even mildly warm meal in what feels like eons.... I still manage to be fat.I think somehow 1/18th of a cold meal has the caloric equivalent of 17 warm meals... damn you motherhood...
ReplyDeleteNO, Steph, it's because we're forced to eat cold things like chips and dip and sandwiches at midnight...ha!
DeleteOH honey... my whole life is a similar experience. Except now, at almost 10, 11, 17 and 45 (OK the last one's the husband) I yell at them to "wait!" and "do it themselves." Which sounds great until you return to the kitchen, with a full stomach, and want to toss your cookies over the horrendous mess they've made in the kitchen.
ReplyDelete:)
Sadly, it doesn't get easier... it just gets different.
I'm starting to realize that's so true. Things don't get easier, just different. Although. I can't wait when that "different" includes, perhaps a hot dinner...lol
DeleteI must disagree with JULIANNA--now that my children are grown & gone, I have no need to go into the kitchen at all. Except to nuke reataurant leftovers, of course.
ReplyDeleteMy dear Fishducky, after they're all grown and moved out, it's back to the restaurants, for me!
DeleteOh fish ducky... still waiting for the day I can just nuke leftovers, or eat cereal. :) And honestly, Tony makes a bigger mess than the kids. :)
ReplyDeleteHehehe, this reminds me of the scene from A Christmas Story. Luckily my mouth is very sensitive to hot things so I like my coffee warm and will wait to eat until my plate stops steaming...maybe it's a built in future mom setting.
ReplyDeleteI'm telling you, Maggie, you're a born mother!...:)
DeleteDear Paige,
ReplyDeleteI can see that there's a whole other life out there from the one I've lived as a single woman with no children and no "significant" other. I do so hope that in a few years the children, as well as the husband,will be able to help in the kitchen. That might create an even stronger bond between all of you.
Peace.
Oh, mark my words, Dee, when they're big enough, they'll all be helping out in the kitchen...LOL
DeleteI would LOVE to join the support group. All the food I eat is either leftovers, or what the kids didn't finish because I feel bad throwing it away LOL!
ReplyDeleteFollowing my previous comment . . .
ReplyDeleteI guess the latter is once again . . . leftovers LMAO! I'm not making much sense today. Oh, I need some coffee and to finish the pancake Dr. Jones only took a few bites from. Wish me luck ;)