Now with a side of cheese

Mothering a living child is making me cheesy.

I find myself thinking the cheesy things I made fun of my mom for saying when I was a kid.  Or the stuff I roll my eyes at when an overly dramatic couple sits on staged with a Texan mustached Doctor and confess that they “would do anything for their children. It is all for them.”

Wretch.

(Partly because that couple sitting there usually does not mean it and partly because … wretch.)

Yet today, I had my own moment.

We moved into the rental this weekend.  It was a maddeningly busy couple of days.  We are finally settled in and we are now beginning to try and find a new routine.  I am not going to lie, our new life is sparse.  We are committing everything we have into this house project.  Everything.  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we had a very good plan and then…well life happened outside of our control and we had to move now or we would loose the house.  It meant our finances would take a big hit.  So we made the difficult decision to slash all budgets to keep our dream home alive.  It means living in a small rental.  It means no fun money.  A lot of home cooked, quiet, staycation sort of activities for the next few months.  We are buckling down and making some big sacrifices for our dream.  We can do it but now it is more of fight to keep our dream alive.

Tonight at dinner I made mashed butternut squash (with maple syrup), baked chicken and spinach.  The squash could easily be stretched across 3 meals and the chicken will be used in salads and sandwiches…all part of the plan.  A meal plan on steroids stretching our dollar as far as possible.  Every dollar saved can go into the house.  While I made dinner Lillian was playing under foot as she always is.  I looked down at her in her little handmedown outfit and playing with new birthday toys I suddenly thought, “Kid, you are worth this.  I want to give you the best life possible.  The best neighbourhood, the best school, everything.  I didn’t get to give it to your sister.  You make this all worth it.”

Cue the dramatic talk show music.

Motherhood… thy name is guilt and apparently cheese.