I burned rice last night. I’ve never burned rice before. Just when I thought I was getting control of my somewhat out-of-control life… I burned the rice. I didn’t think I even knew how to do that (hint: don’t leave the rice at maximum heat for 15 minutes!). Dinner was a disaster last night and today the first of the series of interviews I carefully booked during my rare full days of child care has disappeared. I fear what that will mean for the rest. I envision a domino effect with deadlines looming and no more childcare for the rest of the week.
I think there’s a lesson in my burnt rice. I think it has to do with my futile attempts to take control of my life. Maybe a life filled with a baby, a three year old, a teenager, a military husband with an unpredictable schedule and a home office isn’t meant to be controlled. Maybe it’s time to embrace the chaos and learn to manage within.
It has to be better than serving rice that could be best described as shrapnel.