Daily Archives: September 8, 2009

Comfort foods

Pursuant to a recent conversation on twitter I bring to you the subject of comfort food. Not the chocolate you stuff your face with when you are depressed, nor the cake you eat when no one else wants to finish it. No.

I bring you foods from my ancestral home,  like :

Beans on Toast

Chip Butties

Scrambled eggs with ketchup

Bangers and Mash

Toad in the Hole

Do you enjoy these delicacies or are there other treats from back home that soothe you?

Disclaimer – my KoD is an RD (registered dietitian) and it is totally my belief that he would NOT recommend the nutritional value of the majority of these dishes. Honey – unless you ask, I won’t be making them for you.

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It isn’t easy, ok? It isn’t easy at all. Being away from your husband for weeks on end, with the occasional visit in between. It sucks. Just because your marriage is old and jaded and you could do with a break doesn’t mean mine is. I want to be with my husband under the same roof every single night and every single day. We have been married close to 7 months and still have no date as to when we will be together for good. This is NOT something to be envious of at all. There are nights I cry myself to sleep because I am missing him. There are nights I wake up scared that it’s going to take another 6 months until we are together. I have to deal with the kids who want to be there NOW and not have to wait for the US government to invite us. I have to make it seem ok for them so they have the right attitude, when all I want to do is rant and rave and howl at the moon.

I am so thankful that I have found my beshert. I am. I just hate being apart from him. I hate that he isn’t around, that he isn’t getting underfoot when I am trying to clean up, that he isn’t in my way when I am trying to cook, that he isn’t micromanaging my kitchen clean up. I hate that I don’t have to cook dinner for him and that I am not waiting by the door when he gets in from a long day at work. I hate that I have to ask him how his day was on the freaking phone. I hate that my bed seems empty and vast at night, and that our conversations always leave me wanting to talk longer, but in person. I hate that I can’t just get in the car and bring his forgotten lunch to work, or surprise him at the office for a quick hi.

I hate that I miss him every single second of every single day. I hate that my heart yearns to be 333 miles south of here, while it also wants to be here with my kids. I hate this tug of war. I hate having to pack up the house alone – when I know he wants to be here to shoulder the burden with me.

Is it too much to freaking ask that you think before you open your mouth and say YOU are jealous of ME? I spend every day torn in two. Every. Single. Cotton picking. Day. I spend every day with a count in my head of when I am next going to see my KoD. And it is never ever soon enough. Stupid disagreements on the phone that are easily brushed aside take on huge proportions because of distance. Worry about each other when texts or messages aren’t instantly returned is blown up too. It’s like living a life on a tightrope, and today I really hate it.

I miss him, I miss him, I miss him and as I sit here with the tears rolling down my cheeks I want you all to know that every second of pain and anguish we are going through right now is so worth it if it means we will all be together very soon. I just wish it will be over momentarily. But don’t ever say you are jealous of me. You don’t know what pain you are wishing on yourself.

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