Moms can be experts at giving guilt, but we also take on more guilt than we could ever hope to pass on to others. That’s the thing with motherhood. No matter how much we get done in a day, it’s never enough. The list of undone things are always in the back of our minds creating a never-ending supply of guilt.
And, this summer showed me how creative I am at finding guilt, because I found it in the weirdest place: garden produce. I mean, seriously? Here’s how it happened:
At the beginning of the growing season I loved going out and picking the early produce. I took joy in creating dinners and desserts from my homegrown goodies. And, at first I kept up with all the wonderful things coming out of my garden.
But, then the garden sped up and suddenly the counters in my tiny kitchen were piled high with zucchini, tomatoes and all the other fruits and veggies I grew this year. No matter how much I processed and froze, my kitchen remained a disaster zone of piles of freshly picked food.
I was so tired of all the chopping and cooking. So, the piles on my counter grew and grew and I felt guilt whenever I walked past them. Guilt is what made me grow veggies in the first place (cheap, organic and healthy). And, now guilt was ruining the whole experience.
I tried to give produce away but it seemed like everyone I knew was in the same boat. And, guilt told me I couldn’t waste a single zucchini or cherry tomato.
That’s the thing with guilt. It doesn’t have to be logical or good for us. It comes anyway and stays around as long as we let it.
Having been raised by parents who survived The Great Depression and WWII, I was having a hard time letting go of the guilt that came from wasting even a tiny speck of food.
Finally, fall has arrived and the rains have begun molding the plants and vines I have left. I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to enjoy eating food not designed to use up zucchini and I will eat out again without feeling guilty about the pile of petrified green beans on my counter.
I will, of course, forget all this before next spring arrives and I will gush to you again about the beauty of harvesting food from your own backyard. Until then, I’m going to order a pizza and not feel guilty at all.
Read more of Ann’s contributions to allmomdoes here.
