Grateful

That is one powerful word. When I see that word I feel like crying. I have so much to be grateful for in my life. I am loved beyond measure, I have an incredible family and have everything I need. I’m truly blessed and one who does not deserve such blessings, yet still I am. I find lately that maybe I’ve been looking so far into myself and this new role as a mother – am I good enough, can I be doing something better, what can I be doing to control the situation - that I’m forgetting the true joy of what’s around me, who’s around me. Not to mention, forgetting to convey how truly grateful I am.

It’s easy to complain about missed naps, being a stay at home mom and never getting to leave “the office,” or wishing my husband didn't have to work so much. Let’s not forget here that's he’s the only one working …

Grateful. How could I forget such a humbling existence? So this post is dedicated to my husband, to the love of my life. As much as I love our son, Colgan’s father was my first love. We’ve always had that affectionate, lovey-dovey love that makes other couples sick. Heck, it made me sick until I met Chris. Then it was like “lightning running through my veins.” He makes me smile when I’m anxious and laugh when I’m sad. He’s the greatest person I know. I am so thankful to be on this adventure of life with him. I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else. My friend Brandi sent me that Faust quiz from Vanity Fair once, and the easiest question I answered was who I looked up to – my husband. I’ve never met a more humble, thoughtful and compassionate person, that is, until I met his mother. But, that’s for another day.

What's for Dinner?

It seems like I'm always asking my friend Brandi this question. Yet it seems we both struggle every day with what to make our boys for dinner. We want to make sure they're eating healthy, organic, home cooked food, but then 4:00 pm rolls around and we're off scrambling trying to put something together that is balanced and something they'll actually eat.

I try to buy organic foods, fresh vegetables and whole grains, but I still feel like I feed him the same things over and over again. I'm really trying for a varied diet and foods with different textures. I try and try again, but still get stumped. If you read my earlier post about being a baker, you'll understand that dinners can sometimes require improvising - something I'm not good at. Ask my poor Dad. He once ate "tomato chicken" when I was home from college. I can't just throw things together and get some masterpiece for dinner. Sadly, it's just not who I am.

I suppose it's also because he's a baby - he's only 10 1/2 months, and he's still getting teeth. So, our options aren't exactly wide open, but I do try really hard for variety.

I think the whole feeding the baby thing is another mom guilt trap. Just like from birth - breastfeeding or bottle feeding? Once again we moms are wrapped up in the worry about making sure our kids are getting the best start at life as well as the best continued nourishment as they continue developing and growing. And so we worry, again, and always.

I try my best though. I text mom friends for ideas and read my cookbooks. After all the research, I come up with some fantastic new recipe for chicken. Oh yes, it truly is as exciting as it sounds...

So, I'm a Baker

Don’t get me wrong, I love to cook. We Cancers are happiest with food in our hands (or mouths for that matter) and aprons on, proudly fluttering around the kitchen. I have several aprons in fact. I LOVE aprons. If you truly know me, then you know how much I love aprons and that I actually collect them. My grandmother wore an apron, and I loved her beyond measure. She was a gruff, French woman, but she showed me how much she loved me by baking yummy things. But, I digress.

Cooking requires improvising, and I don’t improvise well. I’m the same way with my baby, but that’s for another day. Cooking allows you to stray from the recipe, to “take the road less traveled,” so to speak. You can add a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Hey, maybe let’s try this, this go around. But baking? Eh, eh. There’s no improvising really, just exact measurements in each recipe, and these exact measurements are crucial to your end game. A little too much of one thing - and your cake may not rise. A little too much of another thing - and your cookies may be dry.

I’ve come to learn that I like exact measurements, a recipe if you will. I used to improvise well! In fact, ask my husband and he’ll tell you just how much. But these days, my life requires more of a recipe, a list of measurements and ingredients to follow. And I’m okay with that. In fact, I need that. I may not have 10 years ago, but again that’s another story. I’m a wife of almost five years, a stay at home mom, and an amateur baker. My sanity requires exact measurements because there just seem to be too many variables; too many ways life improvises and requires you to go along for the ride.

So at night, I grab my baking recipe - baby down, husband fed, wine poured, and I find my happiness in what I know will be an exact result. Not a nap cut short, a dinner that didn’t quite turn out as it should, or a last minute meeting that keeps the hubby at the office. Precision and harmony. Ahh.