Except lately. Have you noticed that many pots these days are made with glass covers. What's up with that?
When I went on my pre-Aliyah shopping spree, I bought many new pots. Good ones, that weren't cheap. I still had most of my pots from when we got married, and they needed replacing. I chose not to buy those "sets", because now after running a kitchen for so many years, I know which types and sizes of pots and pans I use most, and they are not necessarily the ones included in the sets. Most of the new pots had glass lids, but I didn't think much of it (they don't call me "Swifty" for nothin'). Did I mention the pots weren't cheap?
Anyway when we got here, my sister-in-law had bought us a couple of CHEAP pots to tide us over until the lift came. With glass lids. In no time at all, I dropped one of the lids, and--surprise, surprise--it shattered into a million pieces. But hey a "kaparah" as they say--not the worst thing in the world. (And it was a cheap pot anyway). I tossed the pot because it no longer was useful to me.
Fast forward to yesterday. I love my new pots, they are heavy duty and wash easily. You know where this is going. Orli, my youngest, decided she need to bake something for her English class. She wanted to do it all by herself, and I was happy to oblige. As she was getting out a bowl--yup--she dropped a lid of one of the (not cheap) pots. It shattered to a million pieces.
This is where time stood still for a moment. She looked up at me, her face crumpling. I looked at her, completely annoyed, she saw that and started to cry. "I'm so sorry, mommy", she said. "Get me the broom", I ordered.
How many times have you had moments like this with your children? With every fiber of my being I just wanted to let her have it. But when she came back with the broom, looking so forlorn, different words came out of me. "Orli", I said, "it's just a pot. Remember I dropped a lid that broke when we first moved here? Accidents happen."
Her face transformed. The look of relief and love I saw there made me feel so good. Or as Orli herself said, "We [had] a moment".
It really is just a pot. And she is a child. Pot---child....pot---child. I know I made the right choice.
Now I know that my mother was wrong. And I'm going to keep this lidless pot for a long, long time.
The Stuff That Lasts, Part Deux
7 years ago
8 comments:
I'm so glad that you didn't yell at her. This happens to me all the time with my daughter. She'll make a mistake, I get annoyed and am about to open my big mouth- and then I catch a glimpse of her little face, so worried, so sorry... and when I say, "Oh, it's all right, don't worry about it", this look of relief floods her face, and she always hugs me and says "thank you, Mommy." I know that in that moment, she understood that her feelings are more important to me than the broken pot or the spilled juice. And I know that she's learning to become a compassionate person.
Wow--good for you! I have a marked tendency towards impatience and a bit of a temper(luckily no kids or hubby to unleash it on) and am trying, with varying levels of success, to actually learn to control it.
You are my hero! ;P
Shabbat shalom!
Gila
I learned to be philosophical too late for my kids. Our fleishig glasses are over 30 years old. No, over 35 years old!
I have a 10 liter soup pot for those rare occasions that I have to cook for 15 or so guests.
Recently I celebrated finishing my residency with a "few" friends. So it came in handy.
In case anyone is interested, the sushi was also good as was the Bolognaise, the baked chicken and sweet potatoes. The hit of the evening were my mother-in-law's Tunisian meatballs. Don't ask me, I don't know how to make them. I only know that she makes them in batches of 250!
SR: Thank you. It's not easy, though is it?
Gila: I know, controlling my temper is something that I always have to work on.
Muse: Wow I replace my glasses every few months it seems. When I have guests on Shabbat, the glasses never match!
QuietusLeo (or the manpurse doc ;): Of course we're interested, we just want to know what you have to do to get an invitation to a meal like that!
You just can't leave the manpurse thing alone, can you?
I've said it before, and I'll say it again, it's a carryall!!!
Relax, doc.
I actually thought the CARRYALL was very fetching on you. And it shows that you have a certain comfort level with your feminine side that my husband obviously doesn't have.
I guess this means I'll never be invited for tunisian meatballs...
OMG! I have a feminine side? I thought that was my wife's job. Lord have mercy!
Don't worry, I have no insecurities (anymore). And yes, you can have some meatballs.
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