Marriage Moats- Eat Your Cereal
Published: Wed, 05/30/12
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 There are copious studies documenting that eating a nutritious breakfast is the optimal way to start the day. It makes you smarter. I have not actually read them, but I believe it. Sort of. I personally only eat breakfast a couple of times a week, and John less often than that. We are functional, and even clever at times. The twins sometimes grab a piece of buttery toast, but anything more extravagant than that is a rarity.
Benjamin wants his cereal. At least he wants to serve it. He has a favorite handmade ceramic bowl with an ornate quote on it that he will go to the trouble to fetch and wash, in the frequent circumstance that it has not made it into the dishwasher. But although the bowl sits next to him as he plays Plants vs Zombies, or takes pictures of calculators (he is up to 8,328 for those of you who care) his cereal just gets soggy.
When we actually need to board the outgoing vehicle he tucks the IPad into his backpack and slings it over his shoulders, picks up the bowl and heads out the door. We drive the often jerky path of a standard transmission on what I grew up calling the Roller Coaster Road. The milk sloshes over the sides of the bowl and he gets irritated. For a consequence that happens frequently, one might think we could remedy the problem. Maybe I am not as clever pre-breakfast as I think.
I dislike wasting food. I personally trekked to Trader Joe's, took the cereal box off the shelf, put it first into the cart and then in the reusable grocery bag, slid my credit card to pay for it, lugged it home, stored it in the cupboard beside the chips and watched Ben pour some into his cherished bowl with a bath of milk. Then I watch it sog.
En route I sit next to him and coax him to eat.
"Take a bite, Benjamin." He complies.
We watch the rolling scenery or do math.
"Take another bite, Ben." He does.
There are more mornings when he leaves the balance of cereal in the bowl than those when he finishes it. I sigh. Am I genuinely serving my son if he was merely near the vitamins and minerals calibrated on the side of the box? Or does it only nourish him if he actually eats it? I wish he would eat it.
I notice that there are days I do not avail myself of the nourishment available to my marriage. John sits or walks next to me often enough. Yet I only clasp his hand once a week. Or less. The warmth is there, and the skin to skin contact that I was so verbose about when my babies needed it. But husbands need it too. Does it nourish us to be simply near each other, or do I need to actually connect?
Photo by Chara Odhner
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