melted popcorn

let me just say this: not all sweeteners are equal.

I can only say that I figured this out because I made an unfortunate mistake when attempting to make homemade popcorn balls with the kids. considering it is Halloween weekend, and I am truthfully not much for the celebratory activities of meeting strangers for sugar highs, it was my idea to make a delicious casserole, then make popcorn balls, and pumpkin banana bread.

I ALMOST pulled out a childhood common dinner that is for certain NOT a favorite..... tuna casserole. Literally canned tuna fish, egg noodles, and cream of celery soup. Not the most incredible culinary creation, but healthy and filling nonetheless. Well, I was able to get around that and make a chicken casserole instead, adding some veggies, fresh herbs, and topping it with cheddar cheese, and it was absolutely delightful.

shortly after, the kids got in line to get their showers done so that we could all enjoy a homemade dessert and watch a fun movie. This is our weekend ritual, if you can consider it that. But when you're broke and have multiples to entertain, Netflix is an amazing luxury, and popcorn seems like a dream. regardless, I was able to find a popcorn ball recipe in one of the kid friendly cookbooks that I managed to find in the bargain section of Books A Million months ago-- one of my favorite places to be as I love the smell of new books and freshly brewed coffee in the same place. truthfully, the cookbook is adorable! but I digress.

we were out of molasses. so of course, google a substitute and I was informed that one could switch out maple syrup for molasses. unfortunately, this must only be when it is utilized for baking (as a sweetener). the mix of vinegar, maple syrup, sugar, baking soda, and water did not create a thick gooey candy-like coating to make the popcorn balls, but this sweet soda-water that lacked viscosity and completely melted the popcorn down to the kernels. it made me laugh a bit at the complete lack of candy-making skill combined with the fact that I have never taken chemistry and didn't realize that adding baking soda too early to the mixture containing vinegar would cause it to bubble and nearly explode on the stove.

despite the smell of melted popcorn in a caramelized soup, i couldn't help but smile. for once, i wasn't getting upset over the fact that i hadn't mastered something this simple. i just dumped the bowl into the trash and told the kids i would make a new batch. the difference was this time, mikey wanted a kettle corn sprinkle on top of it, and chara, like her mom, requested melted peanut butter poured on hers. instead of a Halloween special, the kids saw that Kung Fu Panda 3 was on Netflix and immediately jumped in glee, agreeing that was the one they wished to watch. (*Yes, I said only Mikey and Chara because Ana was still having a 4-year-old stubborn fit in the kitchen over eating her dinner, and therefore was missing out on the fun.*)

i'm not sure what it was that made this time different. many times, it can be something absolutely tiny and miniscule in the grand scheme of things-- i can't find a matching set of socks for chara, i run out of lucky charms and the kids are forced to play rock paper scissors in order to determine who gets them for breakfast, i get exhausted throughout the day and resort to spaghetti instead of the amazing pinterest worthy meal that i looked up and bought ingredients for hours prior.... it didn't matter that i literally watched the popcorn melt into a giant bowl of gooey kernel soup. i laughed it off. but i'm not sure what made it different.

this image of perfection is an ideal that too many Christian women live by. we believe that we have to do it all-- be perfect chef's, perfectly calm parents with an abundance of patience, always put God first while still giving time to our homes, our communities, our families, missions, and ourselves without getting tired or overwhelmed or neglecting ourselves. what i am learning, even in the midst of melting popcorn, is that the pressure of perfection only concludes with the feeling of failure. and it isn't necessary.

we are not called to perfection. the perfect body, the perfect family, the perfect husband, the perfect life-- none of it exists. there are moments that we all fail, that we all fall short and don't measure up. my house was a disaster today; the kids were rowdy and running around, oblivious to the fact that i had given the direction to clean up their toys over 70 times, and ana must have resisted every meal like she was allergic to food. there were dishes in the sink, dirty cat litter, and i was only able to wake up by reheating yesterday's coffee (so it wouldn't go to waste). my hair was a wreck and i walked around in pajamas all day, with the ever lovely accessory of cat hair all over me. and the day was filled with tears, messes, spills, and moments of chaos.... and still, it was blessed.

it isn't in perfection that joy is found. it is the moments when the popcorn is melted, and Pixar is on the big screen, the kids smell of shampoo and melted peanut butter, and we are all snuggled together on the couch laughing together.... it is when they ask for a bedtime story and hold the cat and tell me how much they love school.... it is when chara dances with delight and ana imagines new characters and parties, and mikey is singing church songs and dancing around the house with jimmy's hat.... it is the moments that are found in photo albums, the ones that everyone is smiling and enjoying life-- these are the moments we remember. but it is all the sticky moments, the mistakes, the failures, the moments when we are brought to the edge that go unnoticed and unremembered.... but it is those sticky moments that make the good stuff matter.

i'm blessed to have those moments, to have lots of them, and to be in a place of my life when i can begin to appreciate them for what they are. i am glad for the lack of supply and the newfound creativity in the kitchen. i am grateful for quiet Saturday nights and bedtime stories and chicken casserole and crowded couch snuggles. and when the kids are tucked in and falling asleep, the dishes are done and the house is quiet again, i will be thankful for another chaotic day that i could be called mommy.