It has been a long week. As soon as anyone starts to sniffle or cough, my mind goes to worse case scenario. A trip to our family doctor with the sickest of the bunch put my heart at ease a bit. Today I played a lot of catch up and I'm happy to report while my house is a wreck, I just caught up on all of the work for my business and I'm ready to tackle a few appointments this weekend.
So in the midst of tripping over dirty dishes and laundry, I decided to tackle a new kitchen challenge. Homemade granola bars. Even bigger challenge? Drafting the girls to work together to make it happen!
So the 3 of them measured, melted, combine, poured, and pressed with minimal bickering. I ignored the "why do WE have to do this?" from one kid and another being a bit bossy. For the most part, they were working together and hopefully learning something along the way. I stood back and watched and couldn't help but feel CJ's absence so desperately that I needed to walk away to wipe a few tears. He should have been having chocolate chips snuck to him by his sisters while he played at their feet. They should have been asking me to grab him because he was underfoot.
What those sweet girls don't really realize is they were contributing to a decision we made for them many years ago. From the first disgusting jar of baby food I offered to our oldest, I was determined to do better. We couldn't afford fancy baby food making systems, so I simply cooked for my toddlers and froze portion in ice cube trays to be stacked in baggies in the freezer for when there wasn't something on the table they would enjoy. When they started school, I was equally disgusted with the school lunches. Our oldest had a fresh lunch packed for her almost every day until she graduated highschool. And now that she is commuting for a semester, we have added her lunch to the stack we prepare again.
It's those simple moments that I am so proud of the effort we have put into raising our kids. It's also when CJ's absence simply kills me. I constantly think about how if we were old school with his sisters, he was destined to be raised old OLD school. This would be to the dismay of so many well meaning people who live to constantly remind us how things have changed in parenting.
CJ would sit at the table with everyone for daily home cooked meals. When older, his lunchbox would have fresh fruit, homemade granola bars, and preservative free sandwiches on fresh rye bread just like his sisters. My boy would have been raised on a crazy mix of Polish/Mexican cuisine that we all enjoy.
You see, my kitchen in the center of our home. It's were there is always plenty for unexpected guests. Dinner menus are text out to guarantee the kids chill at home with me for a bit on a Friday night. He would learn that at home the kitchen is a place to explore (like making our own granola bars), spend time together, keep traditions and create new ones, comfort and nurture, and even work out our differences typically happen around the kitchen table. Our table that has 6 chairs. A constant reminder of our missing child.
Tomorrow there will be a crazy big pot of pezole simmering for dinner. Big bowls of hot food will be ladeled out, kids laughter will fill the house, and I'll sit back and soak it all in. One sweet missing giggle will hurt and probably bring a few tears. CJ's one year anniversary didn't lessen my pain. Instead it only reminds me of milestones he's not here to enjoy with us. I should be spooning my sweet 1 year old homemade soup tomorrow, not visiting his grave.
For now I have slip the dishes left over to deal with for tonight's granola bar endeavor. I spent an hour individually wrapping each one just right. Next is tomorrow's lunches and prep for tomorrow's dinner.
Make dinner as a family. Be thankful for the souls around your table and mindful of the missing. But above all, go old school. Turn off the electronics, make eye contact, and embrace those sweet moments. #doitforcj
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