Sieze el Día

I wanted to have my own tantrum tonight, while I was fixing dinner and destroying two of my mother-in-laws shiny stainless steel pans in the process. I am a fairly good cook. It’s been awhile since I completely burnt two pans and dinner in the process of putting food on the table for my family. Chalk it up to no grill, an electric stovetop, pans I am not familiar with, cook temperatures I am not familiar with, and an ad-lib marinade made out of dumpling sauce that sizzled and smoked its way to crusty black.

It’s not really about the pork chops or pans. It’s really about living in someone else’s house with someone else’s things. One’s mother-in-law’s at that. (But, I love my mother-in-law and if I called her right now and told her my woes, she’d have a great solution for those burnt pans or she’d tell me to throw them away, not worry about them, etc.)

This really is about my first melt-down post moving from my house, into temporary housing until we move to Spain in June. I haven’t missed my stuff too much yet. I actually even came home last night and crawled into the guest room double bed that my husband and I have been cozily sharing for two months and felt like I was home. I miss my office bulletin board and my pantry, but I am enjoying the spacious mud room I gained. I miss being organized. It’s hard to organize yourself in someone else’s house, even though I really don’t have too much to organize. It’s my office and the paperwork and writing and visa applications that feel unorganized. It doesn’t feel that way, it is! It’s all over the basement living room floor! Scattered across the sewing table, on top of Raggedy Ann dolls that Nana must have planned for my nieces’s 2nd birthday. (She made sets of them for Emma and Grace too when they turned two!) (Did I mention how great she is?!)

I didn’t have the tantrum. I decided to pout a smidge and then act with grace and courtsey and put a smile on for my family. The pork chops didn’t actually taste too bad. The lemon spinach cous cous that I found in someone else’s pantry was actually a hit.