Last week, J & O went on a school field trip. The theme for the trip was “엄마표 도시락” - “Packed lunch box c/o mommy”.
On field trip day, I woke up early at 6 a.m. to make fresh rice for their lunches. I put aside snacks and drinks. I got their outfits ready, fed them breakfast, got them washed up, dressed and out the door. Oh, and I couldn’t forget putting on sunscreen and mosquito patched on them, thanks to the kind reminders from their teachers via texts. (So thankful for their loving teachers. God bless their souls.)
Amid the morning chaos, I also managed to make omelettes for my parents (who were staying with us last week) and prepped things so that I could take my mom to an appointment while my dad stayed home with the baby. I patted myself on the back for all that I had accomplished by 9 a.m.
But come 4 p.m. when the daily photo updates came from school, I wasn’t feeling quite the same. There were pictures of the kids in a lush green field sitting on blankets with each of their lunches laid out in front of them. These lunches… Kimbap made in the shape of kitties and rice balls that looked like pandas. Sausages cut to look like octopi. And then there were my kids’ rice balls, which were just that, balls of rice.
Truthfully, earlier that morning, I had prided myself in cooking bulgogi to put in the rice balls (usually it’s just rice, seaweed and some seasoning). But that pride quickly dissolved and in its place was shame. “Why hadn’t I thought to make their lunches cute? Why didn’t I make it more special and memorable for them?”
Why…? Well, honestly, because life with three kids is often a mess. And so I quickly shook it off and told myself, “Grace, it’s okay. Your three children were fed and clothed and cared for today. A pinterest-worthy lunchbox isn’t the goal. Your lunch was good enough.”
In a country of convenience and efficiency, lunch on field trips in Korea these days is often store-bought kimbap. So a packed lunch from home is a novelty in and of itself, hence the theme for the trip. With the intent understood, there’s no need for guilt. I tell myself, “That was good enough.”
And plus, they look like they had a blast. :)