November 20, 2017

Monday, Monday.  

I worked hard today.  

I did my Monday cleaning.  

I washed and folded lots of laundry, and I listened to a bunch of chapters from Jesus The Christ.  

I also went to the grocery store.  Another week, another two carts of groceries.  Three weeks ago, I thought it was a fluke.  Last week, I was a bit surprised.  This week, I resigned myself to the fact that someone is eating a whole lotta groceries at my house!!  

I was late picking up Miles from school, so he just jumped in with a friend.  He was waiting for me at the house so he could help me unload the groceries when I got home.  Miles’s school gets out at 2:00, so he is always the first one home.  Lance loves it!  He waits for Miles to walk through the door so they can play.  Miles is an amazing big brother.  He will take Lance to the backyard and jump with him or push him in the swing.  He will play any video game Lance wants him to play.  He is a huge help to me.  So actually I wait for Miles to come home, too.  :)

I made chicken and rice tonight for dinner.  It’s Owen’s favorite thing ever.  He asks for it all of the time.  So at least I had one super happy customer at the dinner table.  We’ve started to call it, “Owen’s chicken and rice.”  

I’ve been thinking about all of those freezer dinners I made with my friends.  We’ve yet to eat one that we really liked a whole lot.  They’ve all been so-so.  Yet, a lot of my friends are reporting that their families are loving it.  I was washing dishes one night while thinking about this and feeling a bit discouraged.  I wondered if I wasn’t cooking them right?!?!  Or why we weren’t loving them?

I thought about how a lot of the things were even things I would normally make, just a slightly different recipe.  All of a sudden, I had a really happy thought.  Maybe I’ve actually turned into a pretty good little cook.  Maybe my home cooking has gotten good enough that these dishes don’t stand up against my own cooking!  I smiled at this thought while I washed and scrubbed.  And then I shared it with my family.  They all jumped right on board, saying, “Yeah, Mom!  We love your soups better!” or “Yeah, we love your tacos better!”  

I have no idea if any of that is true.  But I decided that maybe I should just stick to my own cooking for a while.  :)

When I was first married, I hardly knew how to make anything.  I could make a stovetop stuffing/chicken casserole, shepherd’s pie, and taco salad.  That’s it.  And we rotated those back and forth until we were really sick of them.  We also had a healthy dose of cheese quesadillas and chili, french toast, and cereal.  But the hardest part was that we drove past Sizzler every day on our way home from school and work.  We LOVED Sizzler.  So, occasionally, we’d stop.  We always were tempted to spend our evening with the all-you-can-eat shrimp at Sizzler!

I was also horrible at doing the dishes.  We didn’t have a dishwasher, and I’m a messy cook.  It was a bad combo.  Greg and I Ioved to take our dinner into the living room and watch a rerun of Seinfield while we ate.  By the time we finished our shepherd’s pie and an episode with Jerry, George, Elaine, and Kramer, we were tired.  But we usually still had lots of homework to do.  The dishes would get piled into the sink in the hopes that some magical fairy would come and clean them for us.  

There never was a magical fairy.  And I hated that sink.

Sometimes I think of those days as I load my dishwasher after every meal.  Or as I cook all sorts of things for our family of eight.  I also remember the way our laundry would overflow out of the hamper so much that it would spill out of the bathroom and into the hallway.  Why couldn’t I have just started a load every now and again?  

I’m so thankful that our life starts small and grows from there.  I’m so glad that I first had to learn to take care of a two-bedroom apartment and one husband.  I’m so glad that I’ve been able to learn as I go.  I think that if on the day I got married, someone handed me six children and a huge house, I would have died long ago from a heart attack. 

One of the things that frustrated me most about those days was the knowledge that my own mother could do it all.  She seemed to be able to cook and clean and work up a storm every day.  She could take care of everyone and everything and still manage to exercise, shower, and read her scriptures.  She would always tell me that I would learn.  It was okay.  And then she would help me and show me and teach me something new. 

I love her wisdom and knowledge.  I try to remember that even as I look at my own children.  I think we always want them to operate at our own level.  But everyone has to start small and grow from there.  The key is to keep loving and keep teaching and keep helping.  

I can’t tell you the number of times my mom has swooped in to help me and save me when I was in over my head.  But look at what she has done for me.  Here I am.  Managing a large family, a huge house, and a busy life.  I’m definitely not always perfect, but perhaps I’ve risen slightly higher than any old freezer dinner.  

And now I’m my own magical fairy.  Thanks, Mom, for all you’ve taught me.  I’ll never catch up to you, but I’m on my way.