The Coconut Milk Broke Me

Some moments are best had alone.  Tonight the coconut milk broke me.

My day started at 5:45am and never stopped…

There were the homemade pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon; making and packing lunches; trips to and from schools; three grocery store runs to three different stores (not worth explaining); laundry x a million that I swear produces like rabbits; art and painting with the boys; football and baseball in the yard; canning an epic batch of strawberry jam; preparing dinner for the boys; helping with homework (stick bamboo shoots up my finger nails); bedtime routines and reading and then the nineteen million

Mommy!!!… I have one more question!… I can’t sleep… Can I have the same breakfast tomorrow?… Are we fans of the Kansas City Chiefs?… How many days ’til Halloween?… Why are you so tired Mommy?… Can you record ESPN and SportsCenter?… 

All I wanted was some music and to cook and enjoy my dinner. I don’t ask for much.

I’d been craving Penang Curry for two days and spent a fair amount of time prepping it tonight while my guys sat at the counter eating their dinner and doing homework. While I know my home-made version is nothing like what I adore in my favorite Thai place, mine has everything I love.

Shiitake and baby bella mushrooms, red onions, broccoli, red, orange and yellow peppers, lemon grass, organic chicken, fresh ginger and garlic, cilantro and of course… the creamy and velvety coconut milk.

Stomach growling, kids finally quiet and tucked in bed, I turned up the music and began to cook.

Who the hell knows what happened. Maybe I was so damn giddy that I was going to enjoy a moment eating a meal, that I lost all sense of control.  It all should have been on video, but I’m grateful it’s not.

It was ugly.

It was pathetic.

I’m pathetic.

Just as I finished opening the can of coconut milk it fell out of my hands, hit the counter squarely and erupted all over the counter, floor, covered me head to toe and splattered everywhere like a damn crime scene. Of course, I had to remove my glasses (opaque with velvety coconut milk) in order to see the crime scene I’d created.  

Stupid clumsy hands and yes, I blame the stupid piece of shit brain tumor.

I’m allowed.

Immediately the dogs were lapping it up and lapping it off me.

I stood dumfounded, numb and starving .

Normally I’ve got a stock of these in my pantry and for whatever reason this was my last can. Gone. Wasted. I’m so glad the dogs enjoyed it.

I had no rage. I had no anger. I just simply lost it. The wheels fell off the bus as I stood, dogs frantically trying to edge out one another for more milk and stepped away from the counter and began to sob.

Then I crumbled onto the floor in the middle of my kitchen with a damn can of coconut milk all over me. The coconut milk had broken me.

Eventually, still starving, I cleaned up what the dogs couldn’t reach and assessed the bowls of prepped food on the counter.

Then I cried again.

Can’t a girl get some Seamless Web in the burbs? I chose to improvise, it tasted nothing like what I wanted and I cooked it and ate it in my milk covered clothes. It was a meal and I was hungry.

Under the cover of darkness, my coconut milk covered self took out the trash and recycling cans to the street and called it a day.

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14 thoughts on “The Coconut Milk Broke Me

  1. What a well written post, that conveys the anguish in beautiful detail, not to say that I rnjoy hearing you so distressed, but we all reach that point, when the final straw is heaped on us.

    Viewed in isolation it looks stupid, however stand back for the bigger picture, it all makes sense.

  2. i have had days when something like this robbed me of all self-control and sent me over the edge – and coincidentally, it has happened when i was trying to cook something i craved. kudos to you for handling and coming through it all(and taking out the trash)!! i hope you got to enjoy your penang curry soon after 🙂

  3. From the vantage point of 30 years from where you are now: I never have to worry about putting three kids to bed anymore or preparing food on the fly or lurching from one breaking point to another. My life is now seamless, serene, predictable. Now I get to be grateful for the mayhem and for having survived it. And I love when one or more of my three grown up kids burst through the door, with spouses and grandchild in tow. I love the clamor, the piles of laundry, the TV dial blaring some sports or reality show, the never-ending cooking and serving.

  4. Aw I’m sorry!! I know how you feel. I once had delivery pizza (that ended up being wrong) break me. James was very confused. But sometimes, you just have to let it out. XOXO

  5. I just came across your blog, and it is wonderful. I’m off to read more of your posts, but I wanted to drop you a line and tell you that this post was beautifully written and so honest.

  6. Kudos, I would have called it a day without taking out the recycling. One thing I envied… a kitchen smelling like creamy coconut for a little while!

  7. Damn. Sorry to hear this…but I do think you handled it exactly as you should have. There is zero shame in crumpling and crying when that’s clearly what the universe was telling you to do.

  8. You are such a talented writer! I love the line about it splattering like a crime scene. Too funny! Today is a new day…..it’s got to be better, right? I am just amazed that you have the time/energy/creativity to do all that you do. Have a great day!

  9. Hang in there…the coconut milk would have broken anyone in that situation. 🙂

    Today is a new day and will hopefully be a calmer, easier one for you.

  10. *HUGS* you know this would of been comical if you just had a few extra cans of coconut milk.
    You had an epic day- you are a fabulous Mom and overall wonder woman, you deserved that meal just the way you wanted it..but…at the end you were still a champ, you didn’t fold (tears don’t count)..and you kept on…that is why you are so inspirational girlfriend. 🙂

  11. Ooooh noooooo. I winced, covered my eyes, laughed and cried when I read this. Here is the good news… tomorrow HAS to be a better day.

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