Home Economics: banana cake with cardamom cream cheese frosting
Mother’s Day is a few days away and I have to admit, I’m not feeling like supermom.
Like most of the world, the last couple of months have tested my ability as a parent.
My patience is thin, swearing has become a part of the day and my son is keenly aware of my limited math skills.
The truth is, I don’t have a boat load of kids. Just one.
One kid. Two kittens. A full-time job. And one world pandemic that has me washing my groceries in the sink, wearing a mask while running in 95 degrees heat and having social distancing walk-dates with my boyfriend.
I observe on social media the hundreds of different ways moms are excelling at home school. Color coded schedules, midday yoga, impromptu dancing and a healthy lunch.
Every now and then, I have a good day where we get everything done. No one cried. A door wasn’t slammed and I feel … adequate. Not great, not horrible, but hey, I’m OK.
But a lot of times, I”m wondering if he’s going to forgive me for this pandemic period.
How will our relationship as mother and son look like at the end of all of this?
Will he forgive me for being flawed. For chasing after him with hand sanitizer, for giving him “mean eyes” him while I’m on a work Zoom call and he’s dancing behind me, or for crying while doing dishes because it’s all overwhelming.
Parenting is already overwhelming, but now?
Next level.
I’m a single parent — with a co-parent — but, being a single mom makes for an interesting set of dynamics between my son and I.
I don’t strive to be his best friend, and certainly haven’t advocated for it, but sometimes, that’s just what we are.
We are, by default of our circumstance, two peas in the proverbial pod.
This week, we had a hard, mind-bending week. I have started texting his teacher as a replacement to my therapist. Thankfully, she’s cool with it.
On weeks like this, we give up early and have home economics class.
Sometimes this involves folding laundry. Or just doing laundry. Maybe, I let him wash dishes, if I feel like getting wet or watching him get soaked.
But sometimes, it means I set him up with a cookbook, ingredients and silent discussion with myself to “chill” since flour and sugar will soon be everywhere.
This week, he made a banana cake.
It started out as a bread, that evolved into a cake, thanks to a cake pan and left over cream cheese that found new life with confectioners sugar, vanilla, butter and the aromatic spice cardamom.
I had him turn cardamom pods into a powder that we added to the cream cheese frosting and it made a simple banana cake turn into something really special.
Which made home economics class, pretty special too.
I’ll hold onto the little things.