With school off to it’s inevitable start, mornings around here are a dagblummed rush. I struggle with it almost daily. Not about the rush thing, there’s just only so much one can do in the wee moments at the crack of a new day. Rather, my struggle comes from this marrow-deep feeling I find myself fighting from time to time. Call it the June Cleaver syndrome, or the Mormon Mom syndrome, or what have you…no matter how much I try to go all Buddhist on my life, live in the moment, embrace the now, be nonjudgementally happy with who and where I am, there seems to be this nagging sense that I could be doing it all better. For whatever reason, the nag hits during breakfast. If I don’t have time to gather my puppies around the table, sit and look them in the faces, feed them a warm and homemade something or other, I feel like I’m not doing it right. Not doing it good enough.
This immaculate synergy of events happens ever so occasionally. The alarms go off at just the right time. The kids wake up ungrumpy, with hair that doesn’t bunch up in a cowlick at the back of their heads. I have all the right recipe ingredients in the fridge. The kitchen table is somehow uncluttered from the night before, sticky juice splotches wiped up before bed. Homework is properly stored in backpacks. Emergency laundry disasters remain at bay. Some mornings, it happens. We end up at the kitchen table for a hot breakfast, reading fascinating stories and talking about the days events.
Most mornings, however, are a lot like today. Me shouting for people to get off of YouTube, because it’s not yet Friday, dammit. Shoes lost. Rotten fruit from lunches found. A revolving door of randomness bringing children to the breakfast table one at a time. The lick of a hand to smooth flyaway hair. Frantic kisses out the door.
And me. Sitting moments later in the silence of the house. Wondering what I’m doing wrong. Trying to remember that no mom ever gets it all right. Wondering if a warm breakfast and routine morning table talk is really more important than stopping for a moment at a red light on the way to school to take a photo of your tweenager. Because, for the first time that morning, you saw the line of silver glitter eyeliner she so expertly swiped across the lid of her hazel eyes.
I sure the heck hope so. Because I did one of those things, and very much not the other. And I feel fairly confident in saying I’ll take glitter eyeliner moments over table talk anyday.
10-Minute Vegan Breakfast Burritos
1 block firm tofu
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
3/4 teaspoon garlic salt
3 slices vegan american cheese
1/2 small purple onion, chopped
2 large tomatoes, finely diced
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
2 ripe avocados, sliced
salt to taste
4 burrito-sized tortillas
Crumble tofu into a large skillet. Drizzle with olive oil and turn heat to medium high. Sprinkle with cumin, turmeric, and garlic salt. Cook for 7-10 minutes, until the tofu is starting to brown slightly. Place vegan cheddar on top of scrambled tofu and stir to melt.
While the tofu is cooking, mix together onion, tomatoes, and cilantro to make a simple pico de gallo. Salt to taste.
Stuff tortillas with scrambled tofu, a heap of the pico de gallo, and sliced avocadoes. Serve and enjoy!