Losing my Spoons

So, it's been a while since I've blogged. Life is hard these days. I keep looking forward to the next stage of development like it will bring with it more freedom for both me and the kids, but with each new season, I'm finding the job doesn't really get easier or less time consuming. It's just different. There are so many things you don't think about with new life stages, even when you have older ones that have gone through it before. My oldest is neurotypical. My middle is autistic, and my youngest is a girl. They don't do anything alike. It's all new. Every day.

I could write a book about the differences and how I'm always being caught off guard and off my game, but that would take time. That's not a luxury I have these days. There's something else missing in my house, though, something I'm a little more curious about at the moment. Over twelve years of marriage, five places of residence, three kids and a bazillion changes in our lives, I have lost my spoons. You know, the things you eat soup and stir your latte with, I've lost them. ALL of them. I know you're probably thinking, "how do you lose something like that and not notice the loss sooner?" It's a terrible thing really. I'm a little afraid of the green police arresting me after I publish this post, but here goes. I...I have an addiction to disposable silverware, and plates and cups and bowls. I know. It's terrible, but it has made my life so much easier. Do you know how many dishes a family of five goes through in the course of a day? I do. About three dish washer loads, and that's on normal days, not the days I bake or cook something complicated. Those days, it's worse, and I can't handle the overload. I know I'm filling up our landfills and poisoning the planet, but I can't spend my days washing dishes, the same dishes, over and over and over. I just can't. I buy organic, try to cook dinner at home as much as my schedule allows, and I recycle EVERYTHING I can, but I can't give up my disposables. I just can't. Can you hear the panic in my voice? Please don't judge me. I need them, and I'll quit as soon as this whole mommy things gets easier and I have time for extra dishes. Promise. ;-) Anyway, back to the spoon thing.

So, when you use disposable silverware, and you run out before getting more, there's a gap. That's when you go to the drawer looking for the real stuff and after the first load of dishes when you have no room for all the silverware in your dishwasher's silverware basket, resolve to buy disposable again as soon as possible. I think I may have noticed the depletion happening a while ago, when there seemed to be fewer spoons than there should be, fewer in the drawer and fewer in the dishwasher, but in all the chaos that is my life, it got put on the back burner. You know, that burner, the one in the back, yeah, it rarely gets lit. Most things sit there for ages, often forever. It's kind of a graveyard, really. Anyway, this last 'gap' we went through, there were none. NONE. Well, there were baby spoons that I can't really explain still having since my youngest is five. That morning, I ate my whole wheat cereal with a purple baby spoon. It took me twice as long as it usually does, and I made a bigger mess. My daughter who usually chooses those adorable leftovers from her childhood whenever she has a chance, even said, "Mom, I need a real spoon. Where did they go?"

Where did they go? Seriously. I want to know. Have my sock gremlins gotten bored and switched to stealing spoons? Are they building little spoon/sock forts with all their lifted merchandise? What about the forks? Why not the forks? Is there something wrong with them? Are they too sharp and dangerous? Are they rude and divisive? Come to think of it, I'm missing a lot of butter knives, too. They're sharp, kind of. Maybe the dish didn't run away with the spoon. Maybe the knife did. Maybe the knife stole the spoon away from the dish. Gasp! What kind of babies do knives and spoons make? What kind of question was that? I spend too much time with children under ten. I could continue to speculate and cause real concern over the loss of more than my spoons, but I'll cut this short.

I don't know what happened to all my spoons, but I do know that I must do something about it. I might choose to use disposable, but what kind of mother expects her children to eat their cereal with baby spoons during a 'gap'? Not this one. So, I am planning to go buy eight to twelve place settings of silverware, real silverware. This will be the first time since I registered for my wedding that I've even gone into that part of the store. This could be dangerous. I will NOT be taking my kids, and I might remember how much I like pretty real silverware and get lost in visions of dinner parties and entertaining. It might be enough to break me of my disposable silverware addiction, or maybe not. Just typing those sentences sent me off into nostalgic memories of picking out dishes and silverware and dreaming of my new life with my fiancé. Oh, to be young again. Do you ever think about what you would tell your younger self about your future life? I was just thinking that if I could go back, I would warn my younger self that sock gremlins eventually turn into spoon-nappers, and action must be taken to prevent the theft. So, if you come over and find a trap set in the silverware drawer, I'm sorry. It's not for you. It's for the gremlins.

We're talking about the loss of innocent spoons, and maybe a little more of my mind than I'm currently equipped to function without. But, see that's not a mystery. I know exactly where that went. My children took it! And, one day, I get to sit back and watch as my grandchildren take theirs. I imagine it will be very fulfilling, just like I imagine that life will be easier in the next stage of their development. Only, will I have enough of my mind left to take pleasure in what I see? I don't know. Such are the mysteries of life. The loss of my spoons and my mind.