"What are you making for dinner?" These are the words I hear everyday from my 13-year old daughter. I don't think she's missed a day asking me for the last six months. I've come to expect them even. They usually are asked within 1 hour of the kids coming home from school. Once asked, I say to myself, "There's my cue. I must get to work. Don't want to keep the bosses waiting for the feast they will have tonight."
Some of my favorite memories growing up involve the family in the kitchen, creating the assembly line to help make those delicious tamales. We all helped out. It seemed like we were always in the kitchen, or eating. I guess that is the stage my kids are in right now...always eating. How did my Mom do it?
It's not that I mind cooking. It is one of my favorite things to do. I once wanted to go to culinary school and learn how to be one of those great chefs you see on t.v. these days. Of course, my life took another direction based on things I chose to do..and not do. When I was a working mom, I used to love to come home and cook for my family. It relaxed me. I was able to wind down from work by chopping up vegetables. Or maybe that was frustration coming out. Nothing like having a glass of wine while preparing the meal your family will devour in a matter of minutes. Solitude for yourself, if only for a few moments out of the day.
Now, things have changed slightly. Maybe it's the way it's asked of me. "What are YOU making for dinner?" Why can't it be, "What are we having for dinner?" Or even, "What can I help you with for dinner?" Aaahh...listen as the words make that whip-cracking sound. Get to work, Servant Mom. Drop everything you are doing because my needs are way more important than anything you have going on. I know I went to the store this week and got snack foods for the kids to eat after school. They're not completely helpless, are they? They can reach into the cupboard or fruit drawer and grabbed something to tide them over for several hours...can't they?
I sound like a new Mother. For goodness sakes, my daughter is 13 and my son is almost 7. It's not like I adopted them last week. However, I am learning how to be a stay-at-home Mom for the first time in my life. What once was solitude is now slavery in the kitchen. Have you ever had a hobby that you made into a business? It's no longer fun, it's mundane. It's like someone just slapped me across the face while saying, "Welcome to Motherhood. This is what you asked for, right? This is what you wanted, right?"
Since my surgery last April, I have REQUIRED help, with almost everything. I lost most of the dexterity in my hands, and the majority of my body is numb. Asking for help is my least favorite thing to do. I can't feel anything with my hands. I rely on what I see to know what I'm doing. I can't write very well, or even type well. It takes me double the amount of time to do anything someone else can do with ease. Typing these blogs has taken at least an hour each time. So, making dinner for my family has become...well...interesting. This is a monumental task. I try not to use knives. Imagine. Can't feel the knife in your hand. Can't really hold the knife very well. Try to cut something round with it, like most fruits and vegetables are. Could be disasterous! I really don't need another medical issue to deal with. That's where my family comes in handy. Even still, I must give at least a 2-hour window to ensure dinner will be ready on time. Dinner at 6:00, preparation begins at 4:00. And this is with Rachel Ray's 30 minute meals! Forget making a fabulous, to-die-for dinner. Not that it matters. Would it be savored anymore than the "quick-fix, one-pot meals"? Doubtful. That's probably why I don't make them. Five or six hours in the kitchen? For what? To watch how quickly the food disappears from the plates?
Anyway, I'm waiting for my daughter to be a little more helpful in the kitchen. I mean, she's 13. She gets it, right? Didn't I get it when I was that age? As for now, I know it is wishful thinking. For now, I just deal with it. It's Sunday and almost lunchtime. My family is wanting to know, "What are you making for lunch?"
I think for your daughter, maybe her way of dealing with your illness is to go about like everything is normal. It's a safe place to be, not feeling like your world is falling down around you because your mom has had a debilitating disease and surgery. You know, as much as you don't like to ask for help, you really should make it more habitual. Otherwise, if you act like everything's fine, how do you expect your family to step up when the reality is everything is not?
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