There are just some days when nothing seems to go very smoothly. I am not saying it didn't go particularly well, because not everything is entirely bad. I think in this instance it reminds me of knowing what to be thankful for, and to put into perspective how I should act upon such circumstances.
Yesterday I burned the beef. I never make such awful mistakes when I cook, but for some reason I didn't realize that the pressure cooker could have been taken off the stove 30 minutes before I did. I had never used one before either. :P As I undid the lid I immediately thought 'I have three kids to feed, and their mother to answer for if I can't find something to give them if this isn't worth eating.' Luckily there was some backup pork in the fridge from a few days before if I needed it, but I was determined to fix this. Not all the pieces were burned, and even the pieces that were had only a small amount of black on them. It was mostly the bottom of the pot that had taken the damage. It was a nice crusty mess of garlic, onions and some beef shreds. Ah me, *sigh*. So I took the little bit I had that was okay to use and looked at this bowl of dry beef cubes. Lovely--now what to do with it. I decided what had to be done was to get it soft again. Taste wise I was convinced it was alright. So I poured it all into a pot and added a little water and just let it gently simmer until it had soaked up some water. In a few minutes you could never tell it was burnt. I even asked the kids and they said it was really good. In addition, A left me a note for what to do with today's lunch and even wrote on the bottom 'PS. The beef was very good'. Sometimes you just have to laugh.
(The pot is all nice and shiny now too)
Since I love to bake I decided to make some bread with some yeast I found in the drawer. Only that turned out badly too. I just couldn't get the middle to 'bake'. It was too doughy even after leaving it in longer than called for. Again, lesson learned--maybe the batter was too thick and I remember thinking to myself how thick the batter looked before I stuck in the oven. But I didn't listen and thought it was fine. Yet again, even my mistake was a hit with the kids. I asked Cecylia and Kasper to taste the bread and tell me what they thought. Granted it was better after I left it in the warm oven, but you could definitely tell it was still a little 'sticky' in the middle, but they loved it. Kasper immediately asking excitedly if I made it and Cecylia commenting that it was still warm called it 'super'--which is something they say in Poland for something that is really awesome. It calmed my frazzled nerves a bit to know that even if it wasn't perfect to me, kids see things so very differently and in this instance they loved the bread that I had only seen as a failure.
Lastly, I have had a really big taste of parenting in the past month, mainly because I am with the kids the majority of the time and must on many occasions reprimand those that misbehave and stand in the middle of small quarrels between siblings. It's almost like I fast forwarded to my life in ten years without the husband. Only now, I realize more what my parents had to go through and maybe even come to appreciate it too. It surprises me when I set down their plate and the first thing they ask is 'do I have to eat these vegetables', or when I ask them three times to do something and it's like I don't even exist. It shouldn't surprise me so much, because I can see my younger self in them in more ways than one, but for the first time I am seeing it from a different angle. I have to say I don't like it. I don't like what I see, in them and what I used to be too. I see the fits they have, the pouting that goes on, the yelling at each other over such silly things. Did I really act this way too? It really puts things into perspective when you are the one in charge--the one that has to hear it day in and day out and deal with it accordingly.
'I told you to do something and you didn't do it. Why not?'
'I'm sorry'
'That's not what I asked'
I makes me want to be the 'parent' I recognize my parents were to me, and to care for them as my parents cared for me with love, respect, and discipline. In so many ways, dealing with them is giving me so much practice and insight into how they act, what to take away, what to say to them and the tone. Always to tone. Eventually they learn--I know I did. Someday I know I will be a great mother, because I was brought up by such a good one with my father, and from the practice I get from taking care of these three here. So far the challenge is met and I like to think I am winning.
No, today wasn't such a bad one.
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