As my sons get older my inadequacies become visual. I simply cant cook. My mother was a wonderful cook. Every Sunday we had a roast or steak. My sons reminded me of this one day as we were traveling to hockey practice.
My oldest Kalin "Mom when we were at grandmas she makes a meal every Sunday like your Thanksgiving dinner."
He continues " Oh and what is that white thing you put on the table to make it fancy... you only do it on Christmas."
"Table Cloth?" I replied.
"oh yeah mom!"
My youngest chirps in "Yeah Grandma make potatoes and meat... and lots of stuff on Sunday."
Well this conversation was pretty much putting holes in my Domestic Deva armor... Who am I kidding I dont have a domestic bone in my body. Who likes to cook for two small children and yourself. Especially when one thinks the five basic food groups are ketchup, fry sauce, ranch dressing and whatever you can smother, dip or swim in these.. Anything that would be remotely healthy for him he sits and gags on until I want to wring his neck. Of course at Grandmas house he is the poster child for flawless behavior and superburb table manners. He split personality behavior just gives my mother more ammo in her not so subtle critisism of my parenting, lifestyle, housekeeping...... is there anything else? Oh yes sometimes my hair just falls in my face and that is an annoyance to her also...
Anyway... I cant cook.
I told each of my children that if they promise to each what I cook then I will cook like that. They both agreed. Now the "little one" He is now 87 lbs and bigger than his older brother. He still enjoys reeking havioc on my dinner menu. He doesnt like spaghetti, no sloppy Joes, Navajo tacos YES! But with store bought chili.... What! store bought. Now I can cook chili, steaks, roasts, etc.... and a kickass brown gravy. Its some of the little stuff I cant manage. Then I find out that the sweet thing eats it at his dads!!! Also they are starting to eat alot!!! I used to have left overs or be able to have two meals.
My kids are simply amazing. Sometimes I feel as if I am dragging them through my heart ache and misery and failures. I pride myself in being on my own. I feel as though I if I fail I failed on my own and if I succeed. You bet your ass I did... problem is when I fail the boys fail with me.
But Im a fighter and hopefully my sons can see that and will appreciate the fight that I survived (I hope) for them. The trucks are soo tiring and the economy is killing my insurance.. But it is coming back! Just takes time and I havent been in either long enough to be recession proof..
I just keep fighting and keep my fingers crossed!