Saddness and Oatmeal

This morning I made oatmeal, because I was sad.

Sad that there are now two babies in the world with one less set of arms to hug them and love them.

Sad there is now a wife without the opportunity for mundane comforts, like kissing her husband goodbye when he goes off to work.

Sad there are two brothers missing their big brothers taunts and encouragements.

The world felt sad this morning so I made oatmeal, with big handfuls of raisins and chunks of bananas and whole milk. And I stirred and stirred and hoped I could try to replace the sadness I felt deep within, with love.  And gratitude.

The oatmeal filled up my girls, and made me thankful for the moment. But it has not yet replaced the sadness.

Dinner parties don’t have to be complicated

As a self-admitted perfectionist when it comes to cooking, turning my kitchen efforts towards my children has been very, well, humbling.  Sometimes I have to manage doing something one-handed and it ends up looking the polar opposite of pretty or even appetising.  Or I run out of time before the tears and whining kicks into high gear to really make what I want and we eat cheese cubes and yoghurt for dinner. Or I make exactly what and think will be the most delicious and well received meal, and it ends up on the floor or cold on the plate and we STILL end up eat cheese cubes and yoghurt for dinner. Continue reading