My cup of coffee

A cup of coffee is one thing I look forward to in a day's event. But lately it is the one thing that keeps eluding me. Okay let me explain.

After sending off  Israel around 7:00 in the morning I set a cup of milk in the microwave to warm for 1 min 30 sec. Then my day starts. Grabbing my laptop I sit down to check my emails, apply for jobs, call recruiters and before I know it it is 9:30. Children start coming down one by one.

Joshua takes me out to the garden to show the single cucumber that is getting bigger each day. He then speculates on deers and other nocturnal that could have eaten some fruits or flowers. Invariably the fence door is open and Joshua claims the deer pushes it open and we talk about what could be done like setting up a surveillance camera to catch the culprit in action. Yes, this is our every day conversation in case you are wondering.

Joshua likes waffles for breakfast - the one with chocolate chip. Served with a glass of cold milk sets him on his track for his rest of the day activities - watching TV, playing video games or wii etc.

Then Sharon pops up. These days she takes extra care with her hair. She combs it smooth first thing in the morning. Yeah, there is a story behind it. Sharon was running wild - I mean her hair was running wild with no sight of comb in days, all my pleas were ignored in her jumpy spirit and then came a day when she had a ball of stubborn knot in her hair. She was in tears when we resorted to the help of scissors to get rid of it. Since then she has learned to tame her hair.

Sharon doesn't care for breakfast. Or does she? If we have waffles she will ask for pancakes and if we make pancakes she would prefer toast. Is it her? No, it is me. I was just like her - giving a hard time to Mom for every single meal. So I understand from where she comes from. Mostly I oblige but these days I tell her to make it herself. She would rather eat some air and skip breakfast altogether. Then I would insist on a glass of milk. She wouldn't agree and will claim orange juice and when I give in, she would rather have soda. Soda for breakfast, you might wonder. My answer would be, "...at least that."

Here comes Rachel with a cheerful "Good morning Mommy!". "Did you make your bed?" would be my response. She drags herself back upstairs reluctantly. Then I call out after her, "Rachel please make yourself some breakfast". She does mostly. Bread or waffle or bagel or anything with cream cheese - she would eat. Drinks milk. She is good. Obeys. Always. That too worries me, how is she going to survive, won't people take advantage of her, etc.

As one by one they settle into their vacation schedule, I am back to my laptop checking emails, job posts, calling people, sending out resume and before you know it it's noon! I pull myself up to go around looking for the lunch menu. No heavy cooking. Children would survive on yogurt rice with shrimp or egg or chicken. Or I can quickly make them chicken quesadillas or toss a pizza or a tray of lasagna in the oven. It's a breeze.

For dinner I worry. Israel is not very fond of non-veg these days and demands vegetables. This is time consuming as each vegetable has to be cut certain way. For whatever reason my sambar comes out ugly too. It is the same ingredients as always, same procedure as always, but not the same curry it turns out. Israel thinks there is less love in it. Could it be? I remember the days when it was worse and he seemed to have loved it or at least that's what he said -it was then - ten years ago. When it comes out excellent these days, he opts for pizza or quesadillas like the kids and then the next day hates the "old sambar". Yeah, so he is right - there is less love in it - on his part!

When it is all said and done, I mean the longing for the past, the resumes, the meals and the clean ups after, I retrieve to make myself a cup of coffee. Awaiting me in the microwave is the cup of milk I set up to warm for 1 min 30 sec first thing this morning! Please excuse me folks, let me grab it before it eludes again...