Buying the sliced cheese

{written april 18th, 2009 at maus + nugget, re-posted today because i needed to be reminded}

Somewhere in between seasonal/local/organic and the yellow can of Velveeta spray cheese is the best that I can do.

Somewhere between 8 glasses of water and total dehydration is the best that I can do.

Somewhere between 30 minutes of meditation a day or an extra 30 minutes of sleep is the best that I can do.

This new role as mother is making me hyper aware of that sweet spot that lies in between the polar opposites - that sweet spot that I will call the "best that I can do" for it is only with total exhaustion that one realizes the insanity that we drive ourselves to - the insanity of perfection, of getting it right, or doing the noble and righteous thing. When really, I can only do the best that I can do.

The gracious women of my women's circle have been delivering food since the nugget arrived, each taking a turn to visit and gift us with delicious morsels. What stood out were these words that prefaced a handful of the deliveries: "I am so sorry - it's not homemade. I bought it, okay." spoken with a sheepish tone of resignation and perhaps a bit of guilt. But why? We put this pressure on ourselves to work hard and then still somehow find time to prepare a roast and scalloped potatoes.

So women, we have loved the quinoa chili, the chinese chicken salad, the sliced cheese and cold-cuts for sandwhiches, the stuffed peppers from Whole Foods and we love you for loving us enough to take care of us. For in the end, it is all about the time and energy you give to others - not the ingredients.

As my friend Jen said today - "I know why moms buy pre-sliced cheese - because they don't have the time or the free hand to actually cut it".

So women, by kind to yourselves, give yourselves a break and buy the sliced cheese.