what they really need

I have been wondering a lot lately what my boys think about my food. I mean, I know that they like my food, but I don’t know if they appreciate the love and effort I put into it. And only because I don’t think they have a clue how much effort I put into the countless meals and snacks that I prepare for them each day. Actually, I have been thinking that the time and effort I put into ensuring they always have healthy and tasty food to eat may (sometimes) be doing them a disservice…

What got me onto this train of thought was something my sister said to me a while ago. One evening, as I was in the middle of preparing dinner with my usual amount of love and effort, Pam remarked; “You really never take the easy route, do you?” We discussed it for a bit, and I realized that, when it comes to food, she is right. I don’t buy canned soup. I don’t do instant coffee. I don’t even walk down the frozen food aisle in the supermarket. I will almost always choose to make my own dips, spreads and sauces (pesto, hummus, guacamole, ice-cream and so on) instead of picking up a ready-made tub from the store. I even have a hard time buying ready-chopped fresh fruit and vegetables. It feels like I am cheating, somehow. Because I am able to buy it and chop it, myself. I had never thought of it all before, but Pam really made me realize that I can let go a little…

The truth is, of course, that my boys are typical and normal boys who would squeal with delight at any carb-drenched-in-cheese-sauce that I placed in from of them. They don’t need turmeric-cauliflower puree brushed under their grilled cod. They don’t need Basil pesto made with lightly toasted pine-nuts and Italian EVO. And with an eleven-year-old about to graduate from Elementary School and start Middle School after the summer, I am all too aware that I am running out of what they really need. You see, one day, I will be able to spend hours chopping matchstick julienne vegetables by hand for an Asian Stirfry. I will be able to take as long as I like perfecting my recipe for the perfect tea biscuit. But what my boys need from me now, is; Time.

Tonight we broke the rules. We did not eat dinner at the table. I prepared a traybake of sausages with vegetables and beans, and my family ate huddled around the coffee table in our living-room, while watching a movie. I didn’t even eat with them, I hurriedly munched downstairs while tidying up the kitchen, so that by the time they were finished eating I could join them on the couch. Yes, I could have left the kitchen dirty. But my darling dish-washer (my Gav) really needed the night off, and if I had left it he would have snuck in and taken care of it all. With the kitchen sorted, I made my way upstairs and cuddled with my boys on the couch.

Later, when I put them to bed, each of them held me tight and told me that I am the best mommy. What made them say so? There was no magic in the roasted veg and sausage I served for dinner. No. I think I listened to my gut tonight, and gave them what they needed, at the right moment: I gave them my time. Sitting in silence; cuddling on the couch. And that, in the world of an eleven and nine-year-old, is what makes the best mommy.