The text came in around noon. A photo of eggs on a yellow plate on top of the glass table that I remember, along with an explanation. He let me know this was his first time making sunny-side up eggs and that it was a fail. It now tasted like scrambled eggs instead of how he remembered it at my place when I made it for him. But the second one he made tasted like a sunny-side up egg.
I smiled when I read the words from my son and told him I was proud of him. He seemed disappointed but I told him that as long as you learn from your mistake, this was what mattered most. He might have failed the first time but he learned what not to do the second time and succeeded.
At ten years of age he is taking something he learned at my place and using that knowledge at his father’s house. Indeed, I am proud of him. Of all of my children. Though it might seem that they do not listen at times, I am finding that they observe what I am doing and learn by way of example.
After my own breakfast of kajgana eggs, made in the way that I learned as a child, I set about to move more items from my bedroom in preparation for my bed which will arrive next weekend. Though there is so much more to do to try to get this place ready for when the children return next month, I work my way through them as best I can.
Two trips to the house were all I could get myself to do today. The idea I had with putting the heavy rug into a large box ended up not working out as the box was not large enough. It broke apart. At that point I flattened the box and placed the rug wrapped in plastic on top of the box thinking that I could simply drag it over to the door.
The rug was too heavy for it to be dragged such a distance. At times I wanted to give up. To leave the rug sitting there in the parking lot until I figured out another way. But in the end, I could not give up. I needed that rug to somehow make it through those doors so I could place it on the cold concrete floor of my bedroom.
Inch by inch, I continued to drag the box and then to carry the rug a few feet before dropping it on the ground to rearrange my grip on the plastic and to cover the torn parts. There was nobody around to help me. Nobody to call. I had to figure out a way.
After getting the rug inside, I left it sitting at the entrance of my son’s room. The room where I am now sleeping until I am able to set up my own room. His room is a nice room with a beautiful view of trees and an open grassy area where sometimes the brown bunny comes around to graze on the tall grass.
As the day drew to a close, I prepared a simple meal of salad with the remaining lemon zest ricotta ravioli and sat at the dinner table surrounded by all of the boxes which were no longer in my bedroom. In time, I will have this place set up for us to enjoy. For the children to continue to learn by example and to take ownership of one’s own life. To observe what works and what does not. Learning to cook and to bake are both useful skills just as is learning how to make changes when something no longer works instead of making excuses.