Tonight I made sushi for the first time. None of the males in the house (3 including my not even 2 year old) would go near it. My daughter, who had inspired this crazed attempt at a new recipe in the middle of the week, gave it a 6 out of 10. “I’m hard to please,” she said trying to compensate for my disappointment.
The real story behind sushi making is I got an idea, and ran with it. Sushi! Unfortunately there were a few things going against it. Whenever I am learning something new my anxiety levels go up exponentially. Mid week and I was tired. I knew all the males in the house would not be impressed. The whole family has had the flu for the past week and we are generally a little run down. Instead of starting early in the afternoon, and having everything ready to go, I spent the afternoon working at the computer, then tried to rush the sushi when my 2 year old was tired, hungry, and yelling “chicken” over and over again. A headache sprung up, I began to yell, and the utopia of sushi quickly collided with the reality of a Mum overload.
That shouldn’t surprise me. The delicate balance of keeping it all together is a constant theme for most women. If only we had some of that stretchy seaweed to wrap around all the parts of our lives, and draw them into a nice neat sushi package. But no, we struggle away. Kids pulling in one direction, work in another, marriage, family, friendships, goals, plans, hopes…
Some days are a win. Some days we’d rather forget. Over all keeping it all together is mostly fun as I enjoy the mix of flavours in my life, a little squished and compacted by pressure, but a nice package!