Learning

Have you seen the show on...I don't even know what channel it's on...Nick?...Destroy Build Destroy? I mean, I don't really blame you if you haven't. It's irritatingly tween-ish. My son totally loves it. Because seriously. They BLOW STUFF UP. And swim in gunk. And walk on quicksand. And cool boy stuff like that.

The thing is...I really, earnestly feel like the title of that show...is my life. More specifically, is my kitchen. If I actually documented the amount of time I spend in my kitchen on a given day lately, I fear I would want to give up this business. For the simple fact that no one should spend that much time on ugly linoleum flooring looking at yellow hieroglyphics on her countertop. Barefoot. Covered in cornstarch. Slipping barefoot in cornstarch I have poofed all over the floor (that's what it does when it comes out of the box. It POOFs. Breathing confectioners sugar dust. While a fine layer settles all. over. my. house.

I'm learning what it means to be a working mom. Only...I'm working in my kitchen. Constantly. While my children entertain themselves with the Wii, their laptops, the television, and the 19-month-old who wanders through babbling endlessly (I so have to get a grip on this).  This has become a 60-hour-a-week job. If it doesn't get done during the day...I do it at night...sometimes all night. And it often doesn't get done during the day. The kitchen is destroyed for breakfast, rebuilt for cake construction, destroyed to make 9 batches of buttercream, rebuilt to serve lunch, destroyed to knead 4 batches of fondant and cover a cake or two with it, rebuilt to come up with a dinner plan, destroyed to sculpt gumpaste figurines and form gumpaste hydrangeas and gerbera daisies, and rebuilt so I can go to bed without thinking about the disaster I left behind. Mostly. The number of times my girl has said to me, "Momma, when will we see the counters again?" is laughable, actually. She's joking...and she knows she's going to make me giggle when she says it...but there is truth behind it.

I'm learning that Relient K spurs me to action. That Brandon Heath would be a soulmate if we were to meet in real life. That my kids can function just fine on their own, but that I hate that they can. That my house is very easy to keep...semi-tidy...but the finer details of cleaning and organizing are definitely lacking and that I have to be ok with that right now. That an allowance for helping me around the house might be the only way I live through the next...10 years. That three cakes to serve more than 100 in one weekend...is too much. Even if they're all straight buttercream. I'm learning how to say no...sort of. I'm a lot better at "I want to help you...but I think I might lose my mind if I do." I'm working on it. I'm learning that I need people. That the Paleo diet keeps my skin clear. That Asylum is fun for 30 days, but that I can't wait to get back to something else. That snuggles from a 19-month old who isn't even mine warm my heart in a crazy way, that teary, angry coversations with a 12-year-old that end in snuggles FILL my heart, and that a day-long, sporadic text conversation with a dear, old friend makes me smile. Big.

I'm learning.