School was cancelled today due to ice and snow, so Kipp was home with me and the normal Monday routine of having a bit of time to concentrate was put on hold. Kipp has no problem concentrating on the work of childhood, i.e. play, while he is at home, but I can’t concentrate well amidst all his sound effects and I ended up sort of tinkering, here and there, letting Kipp eat his school lunch on the living room floor, picnic-style, while I grazed on an odd assortment of things to eat, (almonds, braunschweiger, popcorn) never sitting down to a proper meal. Days like this, without ritual, seem to drag on endlessly.
At 3pm I said to Kipp, “Mommy’s got to get out of this funk. Why don’t we make a super fancy supper for Valentine’s Day?” This idea appealed to him, so we whipped out the damask tablecloth and the candles, set the table with the good china, and rummaged around on the computer for some romantic dinner music.
With a 20 minute gap before I had to start cooking, I changed into a skirt and blouse, yanked my way into actual hosiery, put on an ancient pair of heels, brushed my hair, and applied a little make-up and perfume, knowing full well D. would come home and wonder what sort of female impersonator had body-snatched me. I asked Kipp if he didn’t want to get spruced up and dress for dinner too. This idea did not appeal.
I then set about making oven-steamed salmon with champagne butter sauce (for me) and garlic-rubbed beef tenderloin (for D.). Also on the menu: parsley & chive buttered new potatoes, roast asparagus, Italian wedding soup, salad, mushrooms, and crescent rolls.
When D. came home, he was surprised. “I guess I didn’t need to bring home that bag of chips, did I?” (Do you ever???? Well, maybe on the weekends.)
And so we had a post-funk impromptu Valentine’s Day feast at home, very civilized and satisfying—with all that butter, how could it not be?
But if it was Valentine’s Day in the dining room, it was Halloween in the kitchen. Oh, the horror. Nearly every pan in my batterie de cuisine had been put into service, along with all three cutting boards. One look and I knew the heels and skirt would have to go; back upstairs and back into the work clothes I went.
Meals are so fleeting, but if you asked me if the whole blitzkrieg of creativity and formality was worth it, I'd have to say yes. I've come to learn that ritual is always worth it, and in this case, all I did was tack on a few filips to the regular everyday ritual.
I am now, however, fresh out of filips, at least until Mother's Day.
10:53:57 PM 
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