Yesterday I wanted a TV. And all sorts of processed food that comes in brightly colored boxes covered in characters that we will meet on the TV, conveniently packaged in individual portions that I could throw over my shoulder towards the children while driving whenever they started whining. Oh! And a little TV screen in the car too, while we're at it. And matching new clothes for them, and professional haircuts, and gymnastics class.
What else? Lots of beer. Take out. New running shoes, and fancy gym clothes that wick. A strange woman who sneaks into my house once a week and cleans it from top to bottom. A second car, a beach house, Botox!
Annapolitans are living the dream all around me. What's with the rags instead of paper towels that always need laundering? The clothesline, the Goodwill, the flax meal. This is America, people! Why am I working so darn hard to avoid strolling down easy street?
The truth is we don't have the money to promenade the particular street I describe above anyway, even if we weren't so persistently drawn to Authentic and Wholesome Living. Yes, I was feeling grouchy and poor. In the morning we went out to breakfast at a charming spot, thanks to my thoughtful big-hearted mother who sent us a check for $25 for Valentine's Day, with a note saying that it should be enough for the family to go out to breakfast with.
Instead of reflecting on our good fortune - having this caring mother who looks out for us and helps us to have special outings like this one - I suddenly realized: we NEVER go out. We never go out because there is no money to go out with. It's like when I pick a fight with Mike as soon as we have a happy evening together after a period of stress. Now I can relax enough to tell you how I've really been feeling! Or getting depressed during a precious rare visit with Ann Marie because I so rarely visit with Ann Marie. And now that we're here together, and the waitress is lovely and the syrup is sweet, I think I will begin to grumble because we don't get to do this everyday. Nice, Meagan.
Usually I am rather content and happy with our domestic rhythms that include a lot of cooking. But yesterday morning, as I watched Gabriel spellbound before the little TV on the wall of the diner broadcasting sports highlights ("He has a BASKETBALL, Mama!!") and Frances inhaling her pancakes slathered in butter and soaked through with syrup, I thought: this is what people do. They go out to breakfast. They watch sports on TV. It's easy. It's fun!! What are we missing out on?
I don't really want botox or a screen in my car. Don't worry. Most of the time I feel grateful for the relative simplicity with which we live - the time and inclination to watch bread rise, punch it down, watch it rise again, punch it down again. To sit in the kitchen and eat it hot - slathered with butter - with my kids. It's a combination of things that led me to dream of Nick Jr. and Go Gurt yesterday. Two months in a row of very tight finances, less time than we are used to having together due to my new job, poor sleep ... suddenly all the usual mole-hill sized stresses of everyday life became mountains.
(An aside: it would be so hard to be poor. I think of my old clients at the clinic, trying to balance so much on so little, often in a language that wasn't English. A piece of my heart flies to them. I want to ask certain women - mothers I admired in particular - how do you do it? The miracle mystery that is resilience...)
Last night the mood shifted for me. I made the children dinner inspired by a recipe I found in my weekly email from The Splendid Table. I told Frances it was a special secret roll-up and refused to tell her what was inside her tortilla (avocado, mashed chick peas, and cucumber-yogurt sauce). She loved it! So did Gabriel! Now, would tater tots and chicken nuggets have given me the same glow of maternal satisfaction?
Well, maybe. Who knows. But it helped me shake off the grass-is-greener blues and enjoy lots of stories together after dinner. And realize that I needed to go to sleep at 8:45. And wake up a heck of a lot happier this morning.
p.s. Speaking of the power of a healthy happy meal to lift my spirits - I saw this recipe yesterday and had visions of more such meals in our future. Sprinkled over popcorn? Yes!
p.p.s. Who wants to come over for tater tots and beer later tonight?
5 comments:
i would!! thanks for sharing so honestly, meagan. i'm with you, too.
Come, come! By the way, we are reading The Secret Garden, thanks to you. Excellent children's books are a sort of 'good' that never feel burdensome...
hahahhahahahahaha. Oh! I've been there. So. Many. Times. I had this same feeling a few weeks ago, walking through the knee-deep snow with a cranky Agatha on my back, all so that I could buy local organic groceries and then carry them home (through the snow! with a huge toddler on my back!) 8 or 10 blocks, and then wash, chop and prepare them. I thought: my grandmother who slaved on a farm in North Dakota would think I was insane. She loved frozen bread dough and canned fruit cocktail. Besides more sleep for mama, the remedy is certainly a bag of tater tots in the freezer, and the courage to declare a Care-Free Day during which everyone will eat frozen convenience food and use paper napkins. Once a month, maybe? Just to remind you why you bake the bread.
xoxo
Amelia! Your snowy trudge to market reminded me of doing the same thing years ago, with Frances in a sling, in the rain, lugging vegetables uphill, feeling like my arms would surely fall off before we made it home, thinking...am I CRAZY??
Here's to fruit cocktail and treats from the freezer. I think you're right. One nice thing about living here is the freezer section of Trader Joe's - care-free convenience foods that actually taste pretty darn good. Come over and let's have pot stickers and naan and waffles straight from the box!!
Remember, you don't have to be good-just good enough.
Post a Comment