A Tilly Moment Debate

Are you a glass half empty or half full person?

My husband tells me that you have to have a good Strong mental attitude in life and remember that your glass is half full and not half empty. I can’t help telling him he is wrong. For me my glass is half empty; as I have drunk from the glass of life, savoured, enjoyed it and will take my time reflecting upon it all (men I find in general don’t like reflecting on things, they think it’s melancholy) after the pleasure of reflection, comes the joy of filling up the glass, for me it’s all part of the fun.

            For instance; this week it became clear to me that my children look on me as their provider and I’m sure if I could breathe for them and do all of their other bodily functions they would let me. I felt like the little red hen that found the seed, planted it, watered, weeded, nurtured, reaped the harvest, ground the corn, made the bread, baked it (are you getting the idea yet lol) and all they wanted to do is eat and be merry. Well given the chance I would probably do the same.

            I started to feel my glass was getting bone dry, especially when I came home from taking Angus to swimming this week. I had already picked Ella up at 2; as her school now finishes early, got back home and prepared the evening meal and by 3 dashed out to pick Angus up from his school. I then just had enough time to get to the shops for a few essentials, picking Axl up on way home. Ran in to the house to get Angus’s swimming things dropped off shopping, gave Ella instructions about washing on the line and putting potatoes and the carrots on, so the meal would be ready for us when we got back. Dropped Axl at his girlfriends and then went to the pool for Angus’s lesson.

            I always ring to make sure Ella has everything under control when we get out of the lesson and was a little taken back when I was informed that the potatoes had boiled all over the top of the cooker and were ‘sort of mushy - carrots what carrots? I had enough time to get well and truly steamed up by the time I got home. I could feel myself build that ‘soap box of mine’ but refrained from using it.

            The next morning my ‘soapbox’ had grown to a tremendous height and had flashing lights on it. Both Ella and Axl knew to stand back and Angus started to get his bag ready for school. Well I climbed onto that all flashing soap box of mine and calmly as possible let them know I was their mother, not their life support system. It was my job and duty to teach them how to run a home. This evening’s meal was going to be prepared by us all. At this point Ella went into a melt down. For some reason the potatoes held a vendetta against her, she wailed.

            When they were at school I reflected on my own history, by 9 I was letting myself in and starting the evening meal. I thought of the dreams of having children and a homely kitchen and the reality of a busy lifestyle and the energy needed to get them to help, made me savour the true taste of the wine in my glass of life. I allowed all the flavours and unique taste to flow through my senses and concluded it wasn’t a bad vintage realy, I just needed to fill my glass up.

            By the time they got home I had prepped most of the meal and had just left the potatoes and broccoli to do. Ella approached her nemesis with a teenage attitude and by the time she had pealed 1 potato, I had pealed several. This fact was not lost on Axl. His humour had us laughing and the kitchen started to look like some sort of battle ground. I then decided to take it up a notch and suggested making a desert. Ella picked the recipe, unknown to me needed 8 ramekins but we only had 6 and instead of just leaving some of the mixture, Ella used it all in the 6. I was blissfully unaware of this and blindly put them in the oven as instructed. Well our volcanic concoctions exploded all over the cooker. And instead of the soufflé delight we had a very tasty cavernous desert which made the perfect well for the chocolate sauce. We all enjoyed the meal and the banter made my kitchen the homely one I had dreamed about.

The drinking of the wine takes but a second and should be savoured. I’m trying to hold onto that thought as I try to scrape the welded chocolate lava off the side of the oven (inside and out). In reality my glass is both half empty and full and I take time to understand and acknowledge this. Surely you have to, don’t you, what do you think?