I don’t have central air conditioning, just a window unit and even though it is 90 degrees outside, I decided to bake a cake. It’s been on my radar for a week or two, ever since I found a recipe I wanted to try, but due to my work schedule and the heat, I’ve been putting it off. I’ve had all the necessary ingredients, but just couldn’t bring myself to squeeze it into my schedule, until today.
It’s my only day off this week and since I lent my car to my son so we could have his worked on, I have no place to go and no way of getting there, so I decided to take care of a number of household chores. Now most folks would rather go someplace, have lunch or visit someplace exciting, but I am a homebody and staying home is one of my favorite things to do. After I dropped off my son’s car, my friend picked me up and brought me home. She likes bacon and I happened to have had some in the frig, so I cooked her up some, she likes it well done. As I hopefully cooked it to her idea of perfection, we chatted for about 30 minutes or so and then she left for work. A longer visit would have been nice, but unnecessary. I was happy to cook for her and send her on her way because it reminded me of the life I had hoped for, but wasn’t lucky enough to live.
Unlike many women my age, I had no desire to be a career woman. All I ever wanted was to be a housewife, an at-home mom and maybe the president of the PTA…maybe. I wasn’t always this way, but right around the age of 25, I became a woman obsessed. I was obsessed with having a child and I married someone I know I shouldn’t have, but the need to be a mother was more powerful than my sensibilities. I was blessed for a very short while to be an at-home mom. Even though I was married to someone with addictions, he was able to provide for his family for the first few years. After his addictions tore our family apart, I became the head of the household and did daycare from home so I could be home for my kids. My dad kept a roof over our heads and I did the rest and I was happy to do so.
I loved taking care of my children and those of other families. I enjoyed being a den mother and boy scout leader. I cooked, cleaned and baked to my heart’s content, but at the same time, I supported my family the best I could with my bootleg businesses. I had credit card debt, but I managed to give my kid’s what I thought they needed to “fit in” with the other kids. No regrets and I did find a way out of that debt in my 40’s. We were not receiving child support until then, but we managed. My dad and I were a team and we always found a way to make due.
Even when I went to work outside of the home for $9.00/hour, running a department for that amount, I might add, we always managed to find a way to make certain that my kids had their needs met and a little bit more. I even managed to find time to bake cakes and take them camping and when I had a weekday off, I would pretend that I was that at-home mom I wanted to be where all I had to do was make certain that the kids were fed and cared for, the home was clean and a good meal would be waiting for my family at the end of the day. Just thinking about that scenario makes my heart soar. How I still long to be in a relationship where someone would love me for just being me and the life I create for our family. I long to be the woman that irons my man’s shirt, just the way he likes and pleases him in every way, shape and form because that was what I was raised to believe in.
I was raised to believe that I should get married, have kids and live happily ever after, but that’s not my story. I did manage to get married and have those kids, but the happily ever after continues to escape me. Instead, I pretend on my days off that I have that kind of life. I cook and clean and do all I can to make a good home for myself. I still have one kid living with me, but I don’t see him much. However, I do know that he appreciates all that I do, even though he may not fully understand all that I do, because he thanks me on a regular basis.
My baking a cake today, even though it’s not good baking weather, is my way of honoring who I am and who I had hoped to be. The house smells heavenly. When I tested the cake for doneness, I used the toothpick from the dirty martini with blue cheese stuffed olives, extra olives please, that I made for myself this afternoon, why? Because I can. It felt decadent to do so, not just to have a martini in the middle of the afternoon, but to pretend that I was some mid 60’s housewife feeling trapped in her kept life, yet still providing a perfect home for her husband and children. Would I have felt trapped if I was able to live such a privileged life? Honestly, I don’t think so, as long as I was able to have a garden and a kitchen to create in, I think I would be happy in almost any lifestyle situation.
I was in my glory as I flipped the apple cider donut Bundt cake out of its pan, no sticking, absolute perfection. I still need to glaze it, but it is already a thing of beauty. Even if I didn’t have my son to share it with, I could always take some to work and have my team throw compliments my way. It’s always a gift to receive compliments on my baking, one of the few things I feel I do well, without any thought because I know somehow, it is what I am meant to do. No, not a pastry chef, but a homemade baker. Nothing fancy, just plain good eats that take folks back to a simpler time when all we had to do was take care of each other and all would be right with the world.
I think that is what I am missing, not having someone to take care of. I miss my babies, I miss my dad, instead, I now take care of my garden and numerous household plants. Sometimes I think I’m turning this house into a jungle out of my need to take care of something. I can hear my dad saying, “Throw those things in recycling.” I know, it never made any sense, but he didn’t care for my plants. If he could only see the house now, oh bother. No matter, I would win him over with a piece of freshly baked cake and a hearty meal. I miss him telling me that I’m a good cooker.
Maybe someday, though unlikely, I will find someone new to take care of, to cook and clean for, someone to make a cake for that will make me feel special with their compliments on my results. I wish I could go back in time, make some better choices with my life, but sadly, I cannot. Instead, I will settle for a dirty martini with blue cheese olives, extra olives please, in the middle of the afternoon while baking an apple cider donut Bundt cake to perfection and allow myself for a moment to dream of what might have been, if only…if only.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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