CHAOS TO COMFORT · NOTES FROM MOM LIFE
At 4:45, I still believe in the dinner plan. By 5:10, one of my boys is on the kitchen floor, someone wants a snack, and I’m explaining to a pot of pasta that I really need it to boil faster.
This is usually the moment I realize I’m hungry too. I’ve spent the whole afternoon making sure everyone else ate, and somehow my lunch was two bites of whatever somebody left behind.
When Friday’s plan meets real life
I make my weekly menu on Fridays because it helps to know what’s for dinner before the day gets loud. But Friday me is optimistic. She sees “homemade dinner” on the list and imagines a normal amount of time to make it. She does not account for someone needing a clean pair of pants the second I chop an onion.
And sometimes I hear myself answer a perfectly reasonable question in a voice I wouldn’t use with anyone outside my kitchen. When I catch it, I try to say, “I’m sorry I snapped. I’m hungry and I need a minute.” Then I take a bite of something. It’s amazing how often I forget that the advice I give my kids applies to me too.
The dinners I keep in my back pocket
Some nights the plan works. Some nights we have pastina, leftovers, or toast and eggs. I like having those dinners in my back pocket because I can make them without having to stand in front of the fridge and come up with a whole new idea.
My favourite part is usually later, when we’re finally eating and one of the boys tells me something funny about his day. Five minutes earlier, I was ready to give up on the whole evening. Now I’m sitting there laughing with a piece of toast in my hand.
I’m putting toast and eggs on next Friday’s menu. On purpose this time.
From my kitchen
