Finding Myself...

Before I married my husband, I had dreams of remaining single and raising my oldest daughter Tiffani on my own and making lots of money.  I didn't know really what my ambitions were although I think secretly, I wanted to try my hand at stay-at-home mothering because I never grew up with a stay-at-home mother.  I went to university and studied European history because I thought being a teacher would be a decent way to make a living even if it wasn't really my passion.  I had 14 credits and only needed one more to earn my degree when I gave it all up after getting married and  then  pregnant.  I was just too sick throughout the first three months to handle school.  Fortunately for me I had no regrets with that decision.  Once I was married, I threw myself into being a wife and mother and became "Molly Mormon" for real.  I revelled in this role.  Before long my husband was transferred to NB and we left all our family and friends.  We lived there for four years and it was one of the happiest times in my life.  It was lonely at first but then I was able to discover things about myself as a woman, wife, mother and as an individual.  It was also one of the darkest times because Depression entered into my life and took a stronghold on me.  However, I didn't know it was depression and struggled to hold onto my sanity.  During this time I discovered something about myself...I LOVED TO COOK!!!!!  I wan't interested in eating it, just creating it  The more intricate the recipe, the better the challenge.  Besides looking after my children and husband, cooking validated my being.  When I baked or cooked something spectacular, I felt powerful, lol, especially after I saw the effect it had on my husband.  I began to watch every cooking show I could find on tv.  On Saturday mornings I would hurriedly clean my tiny little house and then sat down to watch the nature show with my three girls(which they loved) and then prepped my pen and notebook for the unending cooking shows that followed on PBS.  Oh those wonderful Saturdays.  After taking down many notes I would then prepare my week of cooking by exploring different countries and visiting their different menus.  Darren never knew what country he was eating from, lol!  I had become accomplished enough in those four years that I was able to sell my desserts to a local eatery that wanted to advertise "made fresh locally".  What a rush!  Needless to say, Darren had to sample a few desserts before we chose the ones that were good enough for the restaurant, poor baby, sigh.  One day, while we were on a date my lovely husband turned to me and said humbly that he wanted to ask me something but didn't want to hurt my feelings.  Now there's a red flag, my friends, lol!  Haltingly, he told me how he loved everything about my cooking and that he was the luckiest man on earth but would it be possible to have just "plain" spaghetti.   Nothing fancy in it, just "meat and sauce", lol!  I looked at him and just laughed.   After that, I made sure that a couple nights a week, he had some plain cooking on the menu.  Sadly our time in NB came to an end and we moved back to NS in the Sackville area.  It was there that I took my cooking to whole new level and started having parties.  Unfortunately we didn't have digital cameras to take uber pictures and my scanner isn't working right now to scan some old photos.  I made all my children's birthday cakes into whatever shape they wanted and decorated them.  I baked every week making sure the cookie jar was never empty nor the bread basket.  Every birthday, baptism, or any reason for that matter, was an excuse to have a get-together.   Those were the good old days, sigh!  They seem so long ago.  At this time I became pregnant with our fifth child and my depression took over.  I was finally diagnosed with clinical depression and my doctor told me that I had been suffering from postpartum from the time I was pregnant with Savannah right through my pregnancy with Chelsea, Angus and then Camden.  It was a dark time in my life and just knowing I was carrying my child kept me alive.  The pain of depression was so great that it would have been easier ending my life.  However that was not a legacy I wanted to leave my children.  I had to see a psychiatrist for a year and slowly fought my way back to reality.  It was a painful time in my life.  My zest for cooking was gone and everyday became a struggle to function.  I had moments of happiness only to be sucked back into the darkness.  Winter was harder for me and spring became my lifeline.  Throughout it all, my wonderful husband loved me unconditionally, never said an unkind word to me and came running when I was desperate.  He never complained once when there were no more gourmet suppers, no more filled cookie jars or the smell of fresh baked bread wafting through the house.  He accepted a messy home, unclean dishes sitting in the sink and the pile of laundry desperate for my attention.  He loved me for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.  For ten years I struggled to find a piece of myself.  When I turned forty I swore I would find that person again and if not, re-invent myself.  As a result I feel a bit of that former life returning.  The desire to create something from scratch in the kitchen has become an itch I cannot ignore.  The ideas are in my head but the experience is gone.  It's as if I have to start all over again and so I am and will... so without further ado, here's a glimpse of what makes me happy. 

  

P.S... hope this wasn't too long or boring!