Breakfast, Lunch and Abundance January 27, 2005

I work just footsteps away from my spouse.  We are in job heaven, thrilled with what we get to do every day, and the fact that we can share that joy is particularly sweet.  But that’s a whole nother Oprah.

I mention our mutual employment because recently we were both immersed in one of our busiest times of the year at work.  There was no chance of tag-team parenting.  To do what we needed (and wanted) to do in our jobs meant big gaps in the parenting department. And when the going gets tough, the tough call Grandma. 

We knew there was no way we could keep any kind of order or nurturing environment in our home during this phase. So, in a repeat performance of last year, we flew in the cavalry – Brian’s mom.  Blessedly, she was very willing and eager to help.  She walked Ben to school, made his breakfast, fixed him a smoothie after school, listened to him practice piano, helped him with his homework, took walks with him, and also folded laundry, washed dishes and kept things clean.  (Thank you, Sharon!) 

Most of these are tasks I would usually fit into a normal day/week, some more cheerfully than others.  There are plenty of times when I get downright overwhelmed by the juggling act required to keep the mom/wife part of my life balanced with my career.  When I get the opportunity to be singly focused on either area, it’s a refreshing change.

But one particular morning last week hit me hard.  I didn’t have time to make Ben’s breakfast or pack his lunch before school.  Dad and Grandma handled it without a glitch, but it just felt wrong.  That’s my job.  I do that for Ben.  Then it struck me – these seemingly insignificant tasks in my day are a blessing.  To be able to perform these small acts of caring for my family is a gift, not a burden.  I thought about mothers who don’t have that opportunity – whether limited physically, by schedule, or by circumstance.  And I realized, yet again, how fortunate I am to have things to juggle.

"…My cup runneth over." Psalms 23:5

Euro Fare January 11, 2005

After our friends returned from Italy several months ago, they shared an interesting cuisine tidbit with us: packaged food in Italy lacks the nutritional information that we’ve come to expect (and inspect) on American groceries.  While I wasn’t shocked, personally I could not imagine choosing foods without the familiar black and white label or ingredients listing.  Though I’m sure my grocery trips would be more speedy, I would feel like an essential tool in my smart shopper arsenal was missing.

But fast forward a few months to yesterday, when I watched a short clip on the Today show about a new book, French Women Don’t Get Fat.  As described by Booklist on Amazon:

To the apparent great envy of all other women on the planet, French women seem eternally better dressed, more stylish, and better looking. Guiliano believes that the secret to slimness for French women springs from fundamentally two sources: the French attitude toward eating, which focuses on only the best and freshest foods consumed in careful moderation, and frequent, purposeful walking….A commonsense diet based on both restraint and simple exercise, Guiliano’s diet stresses that food consumption ought to be deliberate and pleasurable…

It’s not rocket science is it?!  When they are hungry, they stop and eat great food.  Something’s telling me that "Soup-on-the-Go" doesn’t have much of a market in Europe.

It’s about enjoying food, but only as food – sustenance, not as a mood-soother or boredom-buster.  I’m not sure why my tastebuds revel so jubilantly in each glorious bite of bagel, cookie, bread, pasta or (insert carb-filled food here).  I seem to have been blessed with a heightened appreciation for food .  And what I find so heartening about this approach is that food can remain my friend.  While I’ve maintained an affirmative eating approach to diet over the past several years (mostly healthy food), I do over-indulge when I’m stressed, bored, or when something tastes just too darn good.  I have a hard time stopping before I’m stuffed.  With a fresh perspective, I’m hoping I can adopt the most important exercise of all – pushing back from the table.