Last evening presented an opportunity for us to explore our inner emotions. And our motives.
It came on the heels of a heavy load of processing cauliflower into paste, to be used as a dough substitute. And then a huge topping of dishes before bed. This was all tempered with the message that was intended to be optimistic but proved catastrophic, that we would only need two more such evenings to provide us with enough “dough” to allow us the privilege of one pizza a week for the next year.
A notable benefit of childhood meltdowns is the necessity, eventually, for a rational conversation. We actually experienced that benefit rather soon, perhaps too soon for the “rational” part. But life, after all, is not scripted.
All kinds of cathartic comments were delivered during that evening of emotional venting. Sam kept saying, “I didn’t sign up for this”, which was then followed up with, “it’s a good job that I have a summer job, so I can afford to eat now, but how am I going to keep from starving when I go back to school?”
Tess revealed that her recent walks to town were for the primary purpose of acquiring a cheeseburger, to dampen the craving fire in her belly. Kate was dreaming of chocolate. All were feeling victimized and wanting escape from the extra chore burden.
As always, the morning presents a more encouraging future. The promise of less mundane chores is acceptable. The imminent trip to Whitehorse for myself and the girls will come with a welcomed reprieve from the diet. And most importantly, everyone has been heard, and there is an understanding that despite the circumstances of the day, we are united in our efforts to sort this out together