This hit me the other day when we woke up, late, as always and realized there was no breakfast for the kids in the house. So Josh was getting the kids dressed to go to Meijer for donuts and I was frantically getting ready for work and determining if I wanted to blow dry my hair or put on make up, cause I did not have time for both.
On the way to work I though…”What kind of mother am I?” My children are rushed every morning and rarely do we have the right kind of food in the house to make dinner. Dinner is each person choosing their own “meal” cooking it on their own and eating it at various times and places in the house.
If Hanna wants Mac and Cheese, and Abby wants noodles and butter, and I want a smoothie, then that is that. If we are all hungry at different times, I do not see any point in forcing us all to sit down together and eat when half of us are not hungry. I am sure many of you disagree… the whole “Eat dinner as a family” ”Talk about your day” business. And we do all that, just not over dinner. That is fine with me.
With all that being said we go to the grocery store about twice a day. We run out of things randomly so if I go to the store today to get Almond Milk, I am at the store tomorrow to get apples. Somehow, my mind does not think in a practical way that most grocery shoppers do.
We sleep in on the weekends and tell our kids “you can do whatever you want as long as we do not wake up”. Which usually results in 17 episodes of Hanna Montana and potato chips for breakfast.
My laundry is crammed in the machine with no though to colors, whites or delicates. It then remains in the dryer until I need the dryer for something else which means it is then in a laundry basket. Which means I can never find my yoga pants or matching socks and that my work clothes are wrinkled. I also do not own an iron.
But here is the thing… This life makes me comfortable. It keeps me sane. It takes away so much unnecessary pressure. Because running to Meijer at 7:30 for donuts, is not near as stressful as setting aside my Saturday morning for list making and grocery shopping.
I have freedom to eat what I want and not feel guilty about throwing away thawed out chicken breasts when we decide to go out instead (o.k, I don’t eat chicken I know and I certainly don’t cook anything, but it was the only example I could think of to make my point.)
I don’t want to rush home and worry about setting tables and cooking for complaining children. I don’t want to spend my weekends of relaxing stumbling through Meijer crossing off items on a list. I don’t want a “cleaning day”. I will clean when something needs cleaning (or wait for my husband to do it).
But what I will do, is push back my kids bed time so we can play another round of Rummikub. I will lay under a quilt drinking coffee and reading a good book. I will spend time on facebook laughing with friends. I will let my kids do crazy art projects that cost too much money, but keeps them happy for an hour and then likely will be trashed a week later. I will stay up way to late watching documentaries and drinking Manhattans with my husband. And I will have no stress.
And here is what I know. When my kids are adults, the will be organized, planners. They will have lists and schedules and breakfast on the table every day. Which means my grandchildren will think I am super cool when I take them out for donuts.