Like many parents, I now recognize my own
I was especially critical of my mother, certain that I could do everything she did, and more. And I would do it better, as well.
Well, I might do some things better, but not everything.
And some things I do not manage at all.
Growing up, my mother always prepared dinner for us. She might prepare/serve it hours later than anybody else, but she did it, every night. She always served a protein, vegetable and carbohydrate. And we always ate together.
We ate what she put on he table. If we did not like it, tough. There were no substitutes.
Eat or don't eat -- our choice.
I hated that.
So, I did things differently.
Now, everyone complains: "I don't like this; I hate that."
We can have a fridge full of food and my kids will complain "there is nothing to eat."
Last night, one of my kids complained, "you don't take care of us the way you used to."
I was never great at the food-thing. I hate cooking. It's harder now. I cook less.
I get help. Friends cook for us two times a week. (At least, in theory.)
Yet, food always seems to be an issue.
There never seems to be enough of the "yummy" food.
When my daughter sighed, and said, "you always used to make us pasta, with olive oil and spices...," I suggested that she make it herself. It is easy to do and takes 15 minutes. (Why else would I make it so often?)
The very idea upset her.
I began to wonder if there are other issues at play.
How much of my children's complaints are really about food, and how much are they about needing to be nurtured?
Perhaps, under the surface, there is also an element of fear: "Why isn't Ima taking care of us the way she used to?"
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,