My mother in law told me I was a ballabusta, a good homemaker. When my kids were growing up I made an effort to make them aware of part of their heritage by creating holiday dinners for my husband’s family. I learned to make chicken soup and matzo balls from my mother in law. I wanted to go beyond chicken and brisket and dicovered Judy Zeidler’s Gourmet Jewish Cookbook and Persian chicken. I made holiday dinners and Thanksgivings to die for but I was not an enthusiastic every day cook. I was not a great housekeeper either. I rebelled against the title of housewife with all its connotations. I was not Betty Crocker, Martha Stewart, or Mr.(s) Clean. I told my husband I did not go to college to be a housewife. Afterall, I am a child of the 60s and Women’s Liberation. I did want to be there for my kids instead of working full time. I did work part-time after my kids were in school. I don’t know if I was the best ballabusta but I make a mean matzo ball with help of Manischewitz (Matzo Ball Mix).
This post is for Stream of Concsiousness Saturday hosted by Linda G Hill. The prompt for today is “bus.” Featured image “mom” via Pixabay.com