Why I don’t need to have perfectly ripe bananas

Every morning, I like to eat a banana. It’s a ritual after my workout with a large cup of dark roast coffee and a splash of half-and-half. But the banana must be perfectly ripe. If it’s too green, it’s hard and not sweet enough. If it’s too ripe, it’s squishy and overly sugary.

My husband also follows this daily banana ritual, and most of our kids do too.

Somehow, I’ve taken on the responsibility of always having perfectly ripe bananas in the house. Simply having the curved and elongated fruit in the large wire dish on the kitchen counter became a symbol of me being a perfect mom — on top of things and taking care of the people that I love.

I recently started to realize that’s kind of messed up.

I paid extra close attention to my quirky mom behaviors this summer when the kids were home from college. We’re a blended family — two boys from my husband’s first marriage, and girl/boy twins from mine. They range in age between twenty and twenty-two.

Having our adult children around adds a different energy to the house and my overall mood. At the beginning of break, we enjoyed catching up over dinner, going for walks, or watching The Bear.

But the novelty quickly wore off when I had to figure out meals for the household. I did my best to stock the pantry and fridge with fresh delicious food. I also cooked dinner two or three times a week. It made me feel good to make satisfying meals that my family raved about and thanked me for.  

The problem was that it was near impossible to please everyone in the household and attempting to do so only made me grouchy. Especially when I heard the inevitable, button pushing comments: There’s no food in the house. Wait, what are we having for dinner? Or don’t we have any bananas?

For a while, I took the complaints personal as if the kids were rejecting me and my attempt to be a good, conscientious and attentive mom.  But it also made me mad. No one else was coming up with a meal plan, doing the grocery shopping or thinking about the banana supply. And they were more than capable of all those things.

I was so disappointed, I started going to evening yoga and let everyone fend for themselves. I continued to make meals that my husband and I regularly enjoyed, even if the kids didn’t.  And you guessed it; I stopped worrying about the perfectly ripe banana supply.

For a short while I liked this boundary over meals and bananas. I felt empowered eating a simple dinner of cheese and crackers post Savasana. And walking past the empty fruit bowl helped me release this absurd belief that I wasn’t a perfect mom if the adult children in this house weren’t perfectly fed.

Then one day, I realized how much I missed my banana for breakfast and how foolish I was being. This was all my fault. I had put these perfectly ridiculous expectations on myself.

I’m a busy working mom with a lot of things on my mind. It’s not my role or my job to make sure every creature is completely satisfied by the food supply in the house or what I make for dinner. If they eat, they eat. If they don’t, they don’t. If they like what’s in the fridge, fantastic. If not, then they should shop for themselves.

I want my children to know they’re loved, and to feel comfortable and welcome when they’re home. But it’s not my role to do everything for them, particularly at this stage in their lives. Most importantly, I recognized that I’m a great mom when I empower them to share in the responsibilities in the house, be more independent and (hopefully) learn to cook on their own.

Furthermore, I realized I’m a happier mom when I release my own expectations about meals and groceries and simply focus on loving the kids and encouraging them to grow into solid adults.

As the summer winds down, I’m looking forward to being an empty nester again, and knowing I’ll be excited to have our maturing children home over the holidays. I’m also back to buying my perfectly ripe bananas; because it’s what I want to do, and not because it’s something I’m supposed to do.