SeeingRred
FOR BETTER
Food is comfort. Comfort in food. Maybe it’s just that time of year, but this has been my mantra for the past few weeks. With the end of summer vacation bringing a deluge of clues signaling the beginning of a new era, the threat of upheaval has been at the forefront. The natural instinct is to go back to basics and do what I know.
My favourite recipes, like Bestest Banana Bread and Easy-Peasy Cupcakes, have gotten me through — Hallelujah! They require little effort. That’s good, because there were many times when the hustle and bustle of play dates, summer camps, excursions and daily menus was requiring so much, I could barely scrape myself together. The yaays and yums of my #BatchofBoys were absolution for my moments of disconnect, lethargy, and personal downfalls. And, proving that I could quickly pull together #YummiestHealthiest recipes that nourished and delighted, gave me a sense of comfort and control.
When dear friends were leaving to start anew, the short notice of their departure left me upended and a bit hollow. Gone were the days of impromptu encounters, afterschool chats while besties played, and of smiling faces seeking each other in a sea of strangers. I was pained by the foreshadowing of the coming months; the breakdown of my support system and unnurtured relationships gone askew. At the end of their moving day, sweaty and exhausted, we shared hugs and last-minute fears. I said goodbye to my sister-friend and wrapped up a piece of my heart, still warm, to take with her.
Today, as I sit in the sunny, quiet kitchen, remembering the turbulence of summer days gone by, sweet indulgence is my comfort. No judgement, for better or for worse. I stream through the morning’s habitual complaints against early rising, super-long school days and first-day photos. They are comical at first, until the final mad rush and the coming of quivery lips. An unexpected announcement of class restructuring, with the need for decisive moves to avoid further catastrophe, leaves me nerve-wracked and drained. Navigating precarious drop-offs and juggling wrapped geraniums through crowded hard tops at two different schools, I manage to deliver all three kids to their new classes, new teachers, and new beginnings.
Now back home, I celebrate this victory with a few morsels of decadent brownie, a slice of banana bread and a hot cup of tea. Still, with crossed fingers and lingering doubt, I sweeten my lips. And, with eyes cast upward, I see the russet trees outside my window, their branches sturdy and expansive. They remind me that environmental forces will be the catalyst for necessary change. And, that I, too, can manage the transformation. Take another sip. Breathe. I will make it.
FOR WORSE
Fickle full-bodied food, enemy turned friend. You play a seductive game. In my angst, you load me up, calming the tremors rising from my belly and then deplete, leaving me empty again. I yearn for your daily provision, if only to fill the dark spaces that make me hollow. Instead, from the inside out, you wrap yourself around me, as if to protect. But, in the end, layer upon layer, the thick skin I’m in only distances and disconnects.
I feed on you and you feed on me.
Skinny-mini-teeny-tiny gyul
Why yuh skin yuh mout so wide for?
Waaay, Tiny yuh gettin fat!
Who knows? Who cares?
None for you! Nothing. Not ever, for you.
Cute little tummy, please stay cute.
Now now, brown cow.
It all goes by(e).
Fooood, glorious, foooood!
The fat lady sings.
Click Here for Yummiest Healthiest Banana Bread Recipe
SUGGESTED READ: more “Ways to Release”
Written September 4, 2018
