Celebrating Modern Jewish Living Through Food, Tradition, and Family
Sunday morning: the boys are playing X-Box, (no Hebrew school today as it’s Thanksgiving weekend, so they’re still in pjs and yes, I’m letting their brains go to mush), my daughter is at the kitchen table drawing a picture she’ll need to bring to Girl Scouts this afternoon, and my husband is puttering around looking for his Patriots sweatshirt (4:35 PM kickoff, later today). As for me, I’m right where I want to be–behind my trusty KitchenAid, eggs cracked and ready to go, canister of chocolate chips nearby, softened butter on the counter, and flour, sugar and vanilla on stand by.
It’s time to bake the cookies.
This is my happy. Nowhere to go, no place I’d rather be, and full knowledge that in about 30 minutes, two boys, one about to turn 10 and one who just turned 11, will run into the kitchen at high speed, upon smelling the cookies coming out of the oven. It’s so easy: it’s as if I’m playing a Mom trick on them and I can’t even help myself.
If someone ever would have told me 15 or 20 years ago, when I was living in San Francisco or Chicago, going full-tilt dot com exec, that I would derive such simple joy from these beautifully simple moments, I never would have believed them. I would have wanted to, believe me, but since I became a mom late in life (in my 40s) I never thought these things would finally fall into place for me.
These days, this is just about as sweet as it gets and that’s perfectly all right with me.