Getting Hot in the Kitchen

I know I am suppose to post on Wednesdays, but due to some technical difficulties Jess and I are switching our days this week!

Believe it or not, I was the one that came up with the theme this week.

Gulp.

And I still don’t know exactly what to write. The topic (Me Behind the Mom) is something I have been pondering for years.

See, the thing is, I got married young. I had kids young. Many have implied, or flat out said, that by doing so I never “found” myself.

In some ways, they are right. But as Jenny wrote earlier this week, by having kids I became me. I too believe I was meant to be a Mama. And even though I constantly have circles under my eyes and split ends from a newborn who uses my hair as his own personal Lovey, at the end of the day I wouldn’t change my role of being a stay-at-home mom...

my first born, who made me a "teen mom" because he came a month early
thanks for that merit badge.

But let’s be real. Motherhood can be boring, tedious, redundant, and hard.

About a year ago I moved to Texas. It was a big move for our little family, and I dreaded those first few months with the standard, “so what do you like to do?” type questions. Umm, what do I like to do, or what do I do? Because I spend a whole lot of time cleaning dishes, wiping butts, and breaking up fights, and the things I like to do are often forgotten about.

I take the question of “what do you like to do” kind of personally. I shouldn’t, but I see it as “what are you good at?” Well, dang, I am good at changing diapers (cloth diapers to boot!) and I can clean a toilet like no one’s biznass. But who wants to know that?

I used to be good at playing the flute and piano (got burnt out and quit), journalism (former major), and…well, geez, see mom brain strikes again and I can’t even think of some of my former hobbies/habits/talents.

And this is where it gets tricky. My inner me (which is not a very nice little person) starts saying things like, “well, who the H-E-doublehockeysticks are you? You aren’t talented, attractive, or interesting!”

Insert downward spiral.

Let's regroup...

Who am I really?

I am a Mom. But am I only a mom? Some days, yes, I am only a mom. In case you didn’t know, it’s pretty dang time consuming. I am my kids’ world. I’m not a perfect Mama, but we do the best we can (with a little help each day from Pixar) and I know I’m not screwing them up too, too badly.

But I want to be more than a mom. I want to be me—the woman who makes pretty things, cooks exciting meals, feels smart again (motherhood dulls some of my senses while heightening others), and has an identity outside of my children’s rock star view of me.

But how do I get there? I’m a little busy holding the 12 week old, wrestling the disobedient 2 year old, and trying to teach the 4 year old his ABCs. Not to mention my health is a mess. You know, not so little things.

don't let the momentary look of "angel" fool you. 

However, I can’t neglect me any longer. But I don’t have money (or time) for weekly pedicures, shoe shopping, and trips to Barnes and Noble (ahh the smell of books and coffee!).

With (what started out as gentle and turned to firm) nudging from Brandon, my husband, I have really tried to figure out what I like to do while still being realistic.

Recently (like five days ago recently) I figured something out:  I like to cook. I like to study nutrition. I like creating new flavors and seeing my kids try my concoctions. I love to entertain. The inner voice still gives me crap when my recipes flop, and many a nights I sit at the dinner table in tears with apologies falling from my mouth. But when I do succeed in the kitchen I am happy and my self-esteem soars (at least briefly. Still working on conquering that whole negative inner voice thing).

As you all know, since having our newest edition I was diagnosed again with thyroid cancer. Life is what you would call hectic. Meals (if we even eat at home!) go like this:  open freezer, stand on tip toes (I’m only five feet tall), remove a box, read back of box, turn on oven, put food in oven, set timer, listen for timer, remove food, eat with baby attached to the boob if no one is bleeding or screaming.

That line up has fit our needs for three months. Some days I kicked myself for not trying harder to be nutritious, but something had to give for a few weeks. Slowly, I am now regaining my strength and, by george, if I have to put Aaron in my Ergo and give him a bottle to get dinner fixed I’m going to do it. Why? Because I really like to cook. Other things can now “give” (like cloth diapers) and I can take the little time I have to make a meal plan, go grocery shopping (kid free, please? Pretty please?), and cook...oh and, Brandon, before you get too excited about my new revelation, I’m not doing the dishes. I gotta draw the line in the sand somewhere.

Cooking. It’s my revelation. It’s my focus outside of mommy-hood (which, ironically coincides with taking came of my family!).

What’s yours?