In the short time that I’ve been a parent, I’ve learned a lot about motherhood. It’s a unique experience, bringing a tiny human into the world and raising that human day in and day out. Sometimes just keeping my little baby alive is good enough on a tough day. Other days are heavenly, filled with giggles and singing, the comfort of familiar routines, gazing into my daughter’s curious face, and lots of dreaming about who she’ll be someday.
Don’t get me wrong, being a parent is hard. REALLY hard depending on which day (or hour) you ask me. But I’m surprised by how much I enjoy being a parent and also how much certain things I once dreaded about motherhood are totally not a big deal. Changing diapers? No problem at all. The constant laundry? Not nearly as bad as I was told. The never-ending torrent of dishes that comes with bottle feeding a newborn? Well . . . this one is no joke, but it sure is satisfying to conquer throughout my day.
However, there is one aspect of motherhood that I was totally unprepared for. And I didn’t realize I would be dealing with one particular inconvenience literally every day: cold food.
Seriously, the True Symbol of Motherhood is the Cold Dinner
I’m being only slightly facetious here. Because I can’t number the cold meals I have eaten in the first five months of my daughter’s life. Picture this: my little cub is finally down for her nap, sleeping soundly in her woodland-themed nursery and not making a peep. It’s at this moment that I realize I’m starving. Meals often happen an hour or two later than they used to. So when I have a moment of quiet, that’s when I saunter to the kitchen to satisfy my bottomless appetite.
Nursing moms are exceptionally hungry people. No matter what time of day it is, I will reach for my go-to meal: a freshly assembled wrap on a flour tortilla. I prefer mine with smoky turkey, sliced avocado, ripe tomato slices seasoned with salt and pepper, and my favorite honey Dijon mustard. Can’t forget the mustard. Add some pepper jack cheese and a few plump strawberries on the side and lunch is served, but not before I’ve warmed my wrap to melt the cheese just right.
With my hot meal in hand, I make my way to my favorite corner of our sectional couch.
And This Is When the Vortex of Distractions Sucks Me In
The Vortex of Distractions is a cunning beast. I’m convinced it’s the fourth member of our family that came home with us from the hospital because its pull is unparalleled.
The second I sit down with my hot wrap in hand, I realize that my water bottle is empty and rush to fill it. Then I spy my breast pump in the kitchen and rush to hook myself up. Might as well pump while I’m eating because multitasking, am I right? As I get back to the couch, I remember three different people I’ve been meaning to text for the past week. Then I unlock my phone and immediately see the grocery list I was working on two hours ago. Weren’t we running low on applesauce and mayonnaise? As I’m making my way back to the kitchen, phone in hand, a Facebook notification pops up the same time that my friend (who I still haven’t texted back) sends me another message.
Pretty soon I’m standing in the pantry while crafting a text, checking Facebook, and double checking when that Amazon package I’m waiting on is going to arrive—then I remember. I am still hungry.
Of Course My Wrap Is Cold at This Point
Dang it. How does this happen? I could just eat the wrap immediately as soon as I warm it, not even leaving the kitchen to do so. I could also put the wrap back in the microwave to reheat it. But I’m not gonna lie, neither of these scenarios happens very often. One of the surest truths about mothers is that we are DYING to get off our feet. Eating standing up? I would never. And by the time I get back to my wrap sitting in the living room, I might as well eat the thing rather than braving the journey to and from the kitchen again. Energy is my scarcest resource right now, and I’m not willing to squander it, not even for a warm lunch.
And anyway, I can promise you this: the easiest way to wake up my sleeping infant is to reheat a cold meal. Assuming that heating it the first time didn’t wake her up immediately.
I’m Getting Downright Superstitious about My Baby’s Sixth Sense
Seriously, I’m starting to wonder if she can tell when I’m sitting down with a hot meal across the house. Because no matter when I do it, even if I’m trying to eat while my little one is sleeping her soundest, she’s sure to cut her nap short, wailing for a meal of her own. And once I return, it will be to find whatever food I prepared stone cold. Cinnamon oatmeal with sliced apples. Savory chili with a touch of cheddar and sour cream. Baked chicken seasoned with parsley and olive oil and a side of creamy white-sauce pasta . . .
In case you can’t tell, I’m kind of a foodie. I like to eat. And when I do, I prefer it to be something better than frozen pot pies and protein shakes if I can help it.
But lately? Cooking something fresh AND eating it hot is becoming impossible. She just knows, my little baby. She knows when Mama just sat down with a freshly sautéed medley of zucchini, yellow squash, and vine tomatoes seasoned with oregano, garlic, and a hint of parmesan. Maybe she’s testing me to make sure I don’t love my food more than her. I know that it’s impossible for Baby to actually know when I’m eating. And yet . . . her hot meal detector is getting downright uncanny, folks.
Even While My Baby Sleeps, that Vortex of Distractions is STRONG
If it’s not all the things I’ve already mentioned, it’s the dulcet siren song of the unfinished project on my laptop. I’m a writer, and even this early in my baby’s life, I am desperate to create. Sometimes it’s research or a writing project, the monthly church newsletter I design or an article for this blog. Sometimes I sit down with a plate of hot buttered rosemary toast, steaming over-hard eggs exactly the way I like them, and perfectly ripe raspberries. And I just want to take one minute to find a good podcast to listen to. Something that has nothing to do with motherly responsibilities. Or sometimes I take that minute just to close my eyes.
It’s amazing how one minute snowballs into fifteen. And then my eggs and toast are cold. To reheat or not to reheat? That is inevitably the question. All too often I just eat whatever I made so I can move on to the next thing demanding my time. Because I’m a mother. And moms always have stuff to do.
I Know for a Fact that I’m Not the Only Mother Who Does This
Years before I had kids, I remember friends—insert mothers with kids—nonchalantly talking about eating the leftover food their children didn’t eat. Meaning the crusts off of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or the little bits of cold eggs and cereal that their children left behind. I’m not gonna lie, hearing those stories turned my stomach. Even now, I don’t think I could eat a child’s leavings straight off their plate, but I sure do understand what would drive a mother to do that. Because the time it takes to prepare food, warm it up, and not even get to eat it warm? That wears a person down.
Ralphie Parker from A Christmas Story was not kidding around when he said his mother hadn’t eaten a hot meal in fifteen years. I’m just saying. But are cold dinners truly a universal experience of motherhood? I’m living proof that it happens a lot, but I don’t always eat cold food. Sometimes the stars align and I get to eat something warm, even if it’s just a few bites of a toaster Eggo. But is the cold dinner really an experience that all mothers share?
While Pondering This, I Remembered a Certain Fairy Tale . . .
Universal human experiences find their way into fairy tales, you see. And I realized the other day that there IS a fairy tale that addresses this very facet of motherhood: Goldilocks and the Three Bears. There are many versions of this story, but the English one that led to the modern story we all know was written by folklorist Joseph Jacobs. And there’s a line from that fairy tale that is so, SO relevant to what I’m talking about:
First [Goldilocks] tasted the porridge of the Great, Huge Bear, and that was too hot for her; and she said a bad word about that. And then she tasted the porridge of the Middle Bear, and that was too cold for her; and she said a bad word about that, too.
Moving past Goldilocks and her foul mouth, I want to point out that Joseph’s “Middle Bear” is the same character we all know as Mama Bear in the modern versions of “The Three Bears.” And Mama Bear is the one with the coldest porridge.
Yep, Joseph Jacobs Knew about the Real Symbol of Motherhood
Fairy tales are renowned for bringing relatable truths to light. So I shouldn’t be surprised that one of the most famous matriarchs of fairy tale lore had a breakfast just as cold as mine. She may be a talking animal in a story that’s now just for kids. But even so, I feel kinship with this Middle Bear. She surely had her own Vortex of Distractions in her little cottage in the woods.
I’m sure Mama Bear’s days were filled to the brim with motherly ursine responsibilities. She probably spent all day chasing down Baby Bear as they explored the woods, trying to keep him out of the stinging nettles. Bathing him when the mud inevitably followed them home. Cooking and caring for her little bear family and perhaps getting distracted with her knitting or her elderberry bush topiary or her side hustle of beekeeping. Of course her porridge was forgotten.
But in All Seriousness, Motherhood Isn’t All Cold Dinners
I do sometimes succeed in my fight to eat something hot and delectable. My absolutely splendid husband goes out of his way to take care of our little one in the evening so I can get some time for myself. And sometimes I use that time to cook and eat something piping hot.
The other day, I whipped up a spectacular pan-seared salmon fillet seasoned with lime juice, lemon pepper, and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. I charred the fish edges perfectly and paired my entrée with that rosemary bread I love so much and a bed of steaming sautéed vegetables. I added a mini charcuterie board of fresh fruit, smoked mozzarella, and a local white cheddar seasoned with honey and lavender. And a cup of hot chocolate for good measure.
My husband joined me after our baby was asleep, and we enjoyed that stupendous, still-hot dinner by candlelight. It was a romantic little oasis in my busy life filled with everything baby.
Cold Food May Be My Norm Right Now, But I Also Know This Won’t Last Forever
Mine is an existence of highs and lows lately. Although cold meals is certainly a staple of motherhood that even Mama Bear experienced, there are other parts of motherhood that I’m enjoying now and will enjoy later. Maybe the cold dinner is a hallmark of mom life, but the precious little people we get to watch grow every day are a symbol of motherhood too. And surely the one we’ll remember long after that cold wrap we ate for lunch. ❧
