Do as I do

I like to cook mainly because Brian and I love food. Unless I am particularly inspired, coming up with dinners night after night is not my spiritual gift. This is one reason I have named this blog Before 5’oclock. This way I can avoid featuring the dinner part of the day if I want to. When the afternoon rolls around, I start dreaming about food in anticipation for dinner.  Every once in a while I still come to the realization it is not my mom that will be in the kitchen tonight but me. And yes, its 5 o’clock and that pork butt is rock hard in the freezer.

Before I got married in 2008, my mom said she was going to have to warn my future husband that I just couldn’t cook. And though I really have the nicest mom in the world, I knew she would follow through on this one. I have had many culinary failures.

Once, I made six loaves of banana bread for a partial family road trip (Margeaux, Monique and I stayed home because our work and school schedules didn’t line up with our younger siblings) and I left the sugar out of the entire recipe. Halfway to Palm Springs, my mom called and explained why they were throwing six loaves of bread out on the side of the road. I felt really bad. But who needs to learn to cook when you mom is a gourmet?

When I got married and Brian and I were still alive six months later (so obviously I was cooking something!), you realize you learn a lot vicariously through your mom about working in the kitchen. As well as a ton of other things! I always buy butter whether we need it or not because that’s what my mom does.  We’re both germaphobes about restrooms and flyswatters. We believe physical contact cures everything. We love to have dessert on hand (did I mention we buy a lot of butter?).  And an abundance of other similarities both important and ordinary.

So while my sister Monique is preparing for her wedding in December and my mom says, “I have to let Joe know she can’t cook.” I know that they’ll be ok. 

I know that my girls will follow my example in many ways. Some which will be good and some bad. It’s especially easy to spot Lucy’s sins because she is just like me.

I realize I need to watch my idle words. The other day I said “Gosh!” when I was overly frustrated about the key being stuck in the locked door and my arms full of groceries. Lucy stood next to me and looked at the stuck door and said, “Gosh!” really loud. I explained to her it was not respectful to God to say that word and mommy should not have said it. But less than half an hour later when I dropped an apple slice for the third time on the kitchen floor, I sighed loudly as I bent over to pick it up (I try to avoid bending over as much as possible at 34 weeks pregnant). I didn’t even have to say anything and Lucy said, “Gosh!” 

So Mommy has to be as good as the children she wants to raise.