I’d like to introduce a new acronym. ONIF. Oh no, it’s Friday.
Friday, my least favorite day of the week. Do other people like Fridays?
I have mostly given up on the traditional philosophy of cleaning the house before Sabbath. My Grandma always tells how her Mama would cook and clean all Friday, only to absolutely exhausted on Sabbath. And I listened to the message and have tried to instill a more balanced approach in my own household.
And also Devo hates cleaning on Fridays when he’s gearing up for the weekend. And I hate cleaning alone.
So there you have it. Just regular pick up, and no visitors on Sabbath. 🙂
But I’ve been so invested in having a special family meal on Friday night, our only sacred family Sabbath time. And the cooking part has been a huge impediment.
Such a time commitment. Such a minefield for my sanity.
I keep simplifying the menu week by week. This week I’m ready to simplify it down to PBJ. Seriously.
That would free us up for more important things. Like dessert.
Dessert is a touchy subject in my parenting life because everyone is always trying to stuff our kids with sweets, and then leaving ME to be the nay-sayer. And to heap insult on injury, then people usually make me feel like I’m denying my children and being a strait-laced, controlling parent whose children are doomed to future intemperance. Not appreciated.
I want to be the one to say YES and to give good and delicious gifts to my children. Why should everyone else always beat me to the draw and I be left to say, NO NO NO NO NO?
Sabbath has been deemed dessert day for our family. To make the day extra-special, and to give some guidance to our sweet-toothed predilections. Friday night Sabbath dessert is like the Jubilee in our house. All debts are paid. Whatever privileges and fun things they might lose due to disobedience, Sabbath dessert is not one of them.
But it dawned on me the other day that I need to step up my game in the dessert field. Just because I like slightly sweet things like muffins and cakes without frosting, doesn’t mean that my children do. I mean, they like them, but Lia keeps looking at the dessert and then up at me and saying, “What are we having with this?”
So this is what I’m thinking. PBJ and a spankin’ good dessert. Something really sweet. Gooey. Yummy.
(And now I disappear into a daydream where I become a dessert goddess and my children fondly remember the incredible creations I fed them in their childhoods.)
We’ll see how it goes.