Four weeks ago, while knee-deep in a baking bonanza, my oven decided it was time to retire. With a batch of zucchini bread batter ready to go, I stood there, wide-eyed, my right temple throbbing like a warning sign. Flour in my hair and batter on my shirt and yoga pants, I had a heartfelt chat with my uncooperative appliance.
The next day, the repair team arrived and delivered the unfortunate news: the central circuit board was toast. As luck would have it, the manufacturer had stopped making those parts. They could send it in for a hefty fee, or I could cough up even more to buy a new oven. “Sure, send it off,” I replied, as if I had any real choice in the matter.
As they packed it up, the technician sheepishly informed me that I’d be ovenless for two weeks—oh, and the stovetop was out of commission too. Wait, what? He suggested takeout options with a grin, and I felt my temple pulse ominously. No stove or oven for two weeks? This was going to be interesting.
I rummaged through the freezer, salvaging emergency corn dogs, dinosaur nuggets, and microwaveable veggies. I wish I could say I crafted a makeshift stovetop out of chicken wire or whipped up dainty tea party snacks, but nope. The repair guy was right; my life turned into a takeout-and-microwave affair. And honestly? I loved it. I embraced my microwave like a long-lost friend.
Since becoming a parent, I’ve felt this immense pressure to serve up healthy, well-balanced meals. My kids have been enthusiastic consumers of fresh veggies and homemade treats, which has felt rewarding. Yet, in these last three weeks without a functional stove, I’ve realized something crucial: I’ve been too busy to notice how overwhelmed I was trying to juggle work and family.
One night, after a long shift, a kind colleague, Sarah, told me, “You have to let it go. Just let it go.” I nodded in agreement, too tired to elaborate, but now? Now I finally understand. The breakdown of my beloved oven has shown me that stepping back from the endless task of meal prep has been liberating.
Those hours I reclaimed have been a breath of fresh air. Time to lounge on the couch with coffee and HGTV, or call a friend and check in. Those extra hours have lifted a burden, giving me energy, making me less cranky and irritable. Who knew that something as seemingly simple as cooking could have such a draining effect?
If you’re the designated meal maker in your household, you know it’s no walk in the park. It’s easy to pile on responsibilities, thinking they’re “just a small addition.” But every little task adds up, stealing our time and energy, leading to stress and irritability.
So, let’s cut ourselves some slack. What we do is enough. What we don’t do is perfectly okay. Prioritize what truly matters, and when you feel stretched too thin, it’s alright to admit it. There’s no victory in shouting, “I’m so busy!” but there’s beauty in focusing on what’s essential, enjoying moments of rest, and savoring relaxation.
Let’s embrace the chaos of broken ovens and microwaves every now and then.
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In summary, being busy is not a badge of honor; it’s a call to reevaluate our priorities and boundaries, reminding us to find joy in the little moments and take a step back when needed.