I remember as a newish bride, having my father in law over for Thanksgiving meal. He is a RIDICULOUSLY GOOD cook. I mean the kind of cook that makes your average french toast turn to something my kids want to drive to Oregon just to go eat it again. So, as we were finishing up getting the turkey dinner on our $99 butcher block table which was sitting on top of our burnt orange shag carpet of our lovely shoebox rental apartment, my father in law offered to make the gravy. DONE! He said “Where are your spices?” um yeah. Isn’t that what the .69 cent packets are for. Don’t they take care of that? I didn’t so much have more than one or two. It was comical. I don’t remember the outcome of the gravy, but I am sure he made it fly.
Today I was in kind of a funk. Post three weeks of sickness around here and I had to pull out the nazi mom card and get everyone back in shape. There was a great deal of protest and I am a little spent. My superman came home from work a bit early and took all four kids to the park. Ahhhh, silence really is golden.
I climbed in bed for awhile and then decided to try cooking dinner in the quiet to see what that was like. We are on this 10 days of eating real food challenge and on the menu for tonight was tacos. Since those nasty for you, but yummy taco seasoning packets, were out for sure, I googled home made taco seasoning.
1 T chili powder
1/4 t garlic powder
1/4 onion powder
1/4 t crushed red pepper flakes
1/4 t dried oregano
1/2 t paprika
1 1/2 t ground cumin
1 t sea salt
1 t black pepper
Seems doable, but no way did I have all those spices. I decided to take inventory and see how many of them I was missing. As I was pulling them out, one by one (and perhaps the silence was taking some weird toll on me) I suddenly had this overwhelming realization of what a grown up I had become. I had all of them. Every one. I mean I am a girl who can pull multiple spices out of her cupboard and whip up a batch of homemade taco seasoning for her family at a moment’s notice? A long way from the seasoningless turkey gravy days. Right?
Growing up is just plain weird. Nothing can prepare you for it. Honestly, I think that is true. I don’t feel F O R T Y. I feel 26 still. I look in the mirror and realize that ain’t true. I look outside and no longer see my jeep in the driveway, but my minivan. I look at my first born man child who is now a cm or so taller than me and think there is no way I can be responsible for him.
I think sometimes of what it will be like to be the grandma at a Christmas celebration. To hold the wrinkly hand of my partner in crime and look at hopefully the many grandchildren running around. Its just weird to think they will be the children of my children. It is so hard to wrap my head around that. It seems so scary and so magical all at the same time.
Everyone returned from the park and the silence was again replaced with a chattering chubby baby boy, overexcited kids, and a very calm yet stern daddy. I love the silence. I do. However, I am so glad its not permanent. I’m so thankful for my noisy, adventurous, passionate, and mildly chaotic crew.
I am a grown up. I’ve lived a lot of years and Lord willing have a lot left. I am thankful for how I have grown and the growing I have yet to do. I pray I never take it for granted and if I do, that the Lord will remind me, even through something as insignificant as taco seasoning. WHICH, by the way, was absolutely fantastic.