All I wanted to do at 7:51 pm on Wednesday was crawl under the dining room table and curl up in a ball. Yet another dinner alone with the girls. It was a lovely meal, complete with spinach & cheese ravioli with brown butter, creamy, fresh mozzarella, tomato salad, eggplant dip and a crusty baguette.
Can you guess what my kids ate? Yep, bread and butter. The morsel of ravioli Virginia nibbled at didn’t count. The three pieces Isabella forced down her throat meant nothing either. We’d just come off a major tantrum over her not wanting to do homework. She would’ve eaten a slab of cement to gain my approval at that moment.
The scene that played out perfectly sums up my answer to an exercise we did in group therapy this week. We had to write down a parenting challenge and parenting strength on slips of construction paper. I didn’t get to share mine with the group, as it’s pretty big and some people there are talkers.
On that pink slip of paper—I wonder did they purposely choose pink, as in pink slips, I wrote down “I hate being a single parent”. That is my biggest parenting challenge. I hate walking this path alone, and not just because there’s no one to help steer the ship in moments of unrest and tantrums. I miss someone to share my meals with, to share in the little victories and joys.
I miss someone to look me in the eye, and reassure me that I’m not doing a horrible job.
I miss my husband, and the ache is settlng in deeper, as each day passes.
The picture above is a sneak peek from City Girl, Country Kitchen. It’s an Italian soup from Tuscany, called a ribollita. Bryan and I slurped it up for lunch today, steaming bowlfuls, and damn it was good. Isabella surely would’ve turned her nose up to it, kale being her arch nemesis these days. But as I ladled the soup into bowls for me and Bryan to taste, all I imagined is how much Mikey would’ve love this soup. Beans, vegetables, in a thick, flavorful broth, that hearty slices of country bread seemed to just melt into.
This soup is something I would’ve been proud to serve Mikey. And somewhere, I really do believe he’s looking down wishing he was here to share in it all too.