Thursday, September 11, 2008

More than the Crust

When I was young, I ate white bread. I was a wonder bread kid. I used to nibble the crust off and then ball up the innards into a golf ball sized mass, finishing it off with big bites that left distinct teeth impressions in the dough. I loved the smooth consistency, the light flavor.

I continued to eat white bread into adulthood. On those rare occasions when my only option was wheat, I would choke it down without any enjoyment. I resisted it, as I do most change, with the zeal reserved for oldest siblings. Wheat bread has a coarser texture, the crust almost bitter, there are often crunchy bits and I just didn't like it.

At some point after we got married, Neil talked me into trying wheat bread. Despite my initial reservations, I discovered that I liked it and we have been eating it ever since. Now, I find that my taste for white bread has dwindled. This morning I made lunch for my husband, putting together a ham and cheese sandwich for him to take to work. I opened up a new loaf of whole wheat bread and pulled out two slices, putting the end aside while I grabbed the ham, mustard and cheese out of the refrigerator. As I assembled the sandwich, I took bites of the crunchy, tasty end and a realization overcame me.

I don't think it will surprise any parent, but every day with my child is not the ideal. There are days where I feel completely lost. Where the inadequacies of my knowledge and experience seem greater than can be overcome. There are days where I worry that the things I do or do not do will permanently and negatively affect her little mind and body. Days where tears outweigh smiles.

But there are also days of near perfection. Days where it seems my daughter and I are experiencing the world on exactly the same wavelength. Days where laughter overtakes us and delivers joy in armloads. These days seem to carry with them a special light and the hours race past.

There are many days in between, during which we experience slivers of these two extremes.

Regardless of which of these days we are having, there is a texture to my life that was not there before. These new flavors are nuanced and diverse and have ruined me for anything else. And although I occasionally daydream about my old life, there is nothing in the world that could willingly take me back to those bland white bread days.

14 comments:

  1. That is a great post and a great analogy! Enjoy your time with your baby girl because she wont be a baby for long!

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  2. What a beautiful post Cara! I was just thinking about something along these lines...How when we get these little moments of clarity and all is right with the world we realize, there's no better place for us to be than where we are at that very moment. If only I knew the trick to making that feeling stick around for a while.

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  3. This is WONDERFUL. So good...loved reading it. You need to be writing for Parents magazine.

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  4. Great post! Extremely well written and I feel you. I occasionally daydream as well but my past life seems so empty compared to the life I have now. Even on the worst of worst days.

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  5. Great post! I totally agree w/ you!

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  6. What a great post. I love the idea of leaving white bread behind what a beautiful metaphor.

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  7. Oh, white bread balls... yummy. Haven't had those in decades...

    Glad the texture of your life is so much richer, now.

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  8. This is so good. We need to put together a book of mommy blog posts.

    Seriously.

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  9. That is an excellent analogy. I think as parents we really need to celebrate those special days and forgive ourselves for those that don't go quite as well.

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  10. Oh Cara! What a great way to look at things ... I needed that this Friday :)

    BTW, T.G.friggin.I.F.

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  11. That is exactly how I feel. Some days it's like am I doing the right thing and other times I feel like a great mom. Funny - my brother used to eat white bread like that too! LOL...Thanks for visiting from BATW and your sweet comments. Love your blog!

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  12. This is a great analogy, though in my non-figurative (imagine that, given the name) case, while I definitely appreciate non-crunchy/-seedy wheat bread, I have never stopped loving white bread.*

    Though I must say, thinking of the sweaty little bread balls my sister used to make, just like you describe here, provides a nice counterweight to ever wanting to eat white bread again. Or anything else.


    * In case you didn't, please go back and read the end of this sentence in a dramatic soap opera voice.

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  13. Wow! You are on a roll (hee hee) with these touching posts. Nice writing.

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Give me some sugar, baby!