bewitchen in the kitchen

I'm sure many would agree that the kitchen seems to be the nerve center of the home. It's the room we congregate in whether we are eating, playing board games, doing homework, celebrating birthdays, painting pictures,having heart to hearts, writing bills, and oh yea.... cooking.
My children have had more meaningful, heart-wrenching conversations with me in the kitchen while I'm emptying the dishwasher... than anywhere else. My kitchen has also had it's fair share of things being flung. What do plates, pork roasts, Clogs and pastina all have in common? Yep, they are just some of the items that have hit the walls of my cute kitchen. When my middle son was younger he couldn't swallow pills. His asthma was very bad and the doctor prescribed steroids. Little pills that HAD to be swallowed. After many hours spent trying to put them in applesauce and pudding and even pizza. Crazy momma got very frustrated and as embarrassing as it is to admit. I whipped off my clog and flung it at him! ( No, Not child abuse.... Last second I came to my senses and aimed high and have the hole in the wall to prove it) It didn't help the situation, he still didn't take those damn pills, but it made me feel better.

When my oldest was a baby in the high chair, he decided it would be fun to take his full bowl of pastina and throw it in the air. I had pastina dripping off the walls the furniture and the chandelier! ( Do you know how that shit sticks to everything?) I'm sure you moms know what I mean when I say it was the last straw that day. It was one of those times where daddy had to intervene. Momma couldn't take it that day, and had to leave the room in tears while one wonderful dad cleaned baby and house top to bottom. (gee, I didn't think talking about my favorite room would make me loook like a lunatic) To hear of my misconstrued lunacy though you must read further about the infamous pork roast story.....

When I was pregnant for our third son, I was nauseous almost the whole nine months. Looking at food and cooking it was a nightmare. One day I left it up to my husband, who decided to buy and cook a pork roast. For the two hours that thing was cooking I was complaining relentlessly. He finally LOST it and opened the oven and threw it in the garbage. I got so angry at him and we had an argument, which included me flinging a few plates off the table and into our walls . Well, my 5 year old was unfortunately a witness to this whole terrible, but thank god extremely rare fighting. The following school year, the teacher was talking about how everyone fights and all the kids were telling stories. My little boy gets up in front of the class and interprets the pork roast story with his fast moving body and speedy words like this......" One day my mom was so mad at my dad that she picked up a chicken and threw it at his head"! the class couldn't control their laughter. My girlfriend called me hysterically laughing because her 6 yr. old who was in the same class got off the bus and told her this story. Again, everyone thinks I'm a looney. I didn't throw meat at his head! But the visual of N. telling this chicken story is worth the bad rap.
photos of some of my favorite things in my kitchen #1 a hutch that my husband refinished #2 a madallion he painted #3 my duck house and #4 a picture my third son drew in the 3rd grade
for more kitchen stories go here