Eat the FOOD!
Since moving cross-country, my life has been simplified. My responsibilities have been pared back down to the basics. I'm not needed for much outside of the house. My job obviously stayed in Texas and I said "adios" to a lot of volunteer hours. Without the busy day-to-day of family and friends around, I've found myself far more domestic than I've been in a while.
**Before I go on, I'd like to preface this piece by reminding you to stay in your lane, friend. This post is not about what any of us moms should or should not be doing at home. Get that mess out of your brain right now. This is about me and my own domestic struggle. And how I might spatula (yes, I made that a verb) someone across the face when I next sit down for dinner.**
I keep a clean house...ish. I wash clothes. (Do I make the kids go down to the basement and dig through piles of clean laundry to find what they need for the day? You betcha. Baby steps, guys.) And, sigh, I feed my people. Correction: I cook a heck-ton of food and hope for the best. Here's the rub. I've now got more free hours than I've had in a couple of years. This time gives the planner in me freedom to research new recipes. I pour through cookbooks (recently became a fan of Mix and Match Mama). I dig up those ancient pins on Pinterest. You know, the first few pins you found before you really went down the rabbit hole of Pinterest. Those pins were the recipes that got pushed down into the dungeons of my "Meals to Make" and "Crock Pot Recipes to Try" boards. I am finally unleashing those delicious meals and feel excited to push the limits of my cooking! Come to the table, children! You shall surely praise me in the streets and call me blessed as I dazzle your taste-buds and thrill your soul!
Except that's not even the case a little bit. Night after night, I place new dishes on the dining room table in hopeful expectation. I step back with one of those "ta-da" flourishes and, as quick as the strike of a snake, I'm met with "That looks disgusting". My smile falters and my spatula hand twitches. I am the definition of insanity. Same story, different night. I find a meal I am sure will please my brood and it gets picked apart, first with their skeptical little eyes, and then with their words. "Your chicken is always too chewy." I apologize for not letting you die of salmonella poisoning. How rude of me. "I don't like salad!" That is LITERALLY a sprinkle of parsley for garnish. Parsley. Not salad. "I just like the tomato soup you make." For the thousandth time, you mean potato soup. You don't even like tomatoes. And it's a Paula Deen recipe, for crying out loud! I can only make her stuff, in good conscience, once a quarter. Do you have any idea the amount of butter or heavy cream you'd be consuming, otherwise? Oh, that's right. You don't care. You want the soup. You'll eat the soup. You won't make yourself throw up if it's soup. Fine, you've broken me. I'll make the soup. Again.
And that's basically how my culinary adventures are going. I'm totally Julia Child-ing this thing over here...or so I wish. My kids long for the days when I was too tired to cook after work. Microwaved chicken nuggets! Kids! Dinner's on! (Hey. Simmer down, reader. I bought the organic mega-bags from Costco, at least. Most of the time.) Oh the guilt I felt back then for "dropping the ball" with meals! I remember wishing for more time to devote to true dinners. Now here I sit with ample time to prepare good-for-them food. And what thanks do I get? My biggest compliment lately was, "Hey! This dinner isn't going to make me throw up!" Bartender? I'll have the usual.
Ain't that the way this mom-life seems to work? You think if you adjust or change one area, things will improve and your mom points will go through the roof. It's a classic "grass is greener" scenario and we should see it coming a mile away. But we never do. We want better for our kids. We want to do more and be more. And we push ourselves too hard! Way too hard! The mom points don't seem to add up because the mom points DO NOT EXIST. All we can do is the best we can with what we're given and then remember to give ourselves grace on the daily. If dinner makes those picky little buggers puke, so be it. That, sister, is why you get yourself a dog. Clean-up on aisle one!
**Before I go on, I'd like to preface this piece by reminding you to stay in your lane, friend. This post is not about what any of us moms should or should not be doing at home. Get that mess out of your brain right now. This is about me and my own domestic struggle. And how I might spatula (yes, I made that a verb) someone across the face when I next sit down for dinner.**
I keep a clean house...ish. I wash clothes. (Do I make the kids go down to the basement and dig through piles of clean laundry to find what they need for the day? You betcha. Baby steps, guys.) And, sigh, I feed my people. Correction: I cook a heck-ton of food and hope for the best. Here's the rub. I've now got more free hours than I've had in a couple of years. This time gives the planner in me freedom to research new recipes. I pour through cookbooks (recently became a fan of Mix and Match Mama). I dig up those ancient pins on Pinterest. You know, the first few pins you found before you really went down the rabbit hole of Pinterest. Those pins were the recipes that got pushed down into the dungeons of my "Meals to Make" and "Crock Pot Recipes to Try" boards. I am finally unleashing those delicious meals and feel excited to push the limits of my cooking! Come to the table, children! You shall surely praise me in the streets and call me blessed as I dazzle your taste-buds and thrill your soul!
And that's basically how my culinary adventures are going. I'm totally Julia Child-ing this thing over here...or so I wish. My kids long for the days when I was too tired to cook after work. Microwaved chicken nuggets! Kids! Dinner's on! (Hey. Simmer down, reader. I bought the organic mega-bags from Costco, at least. Most of the time.) Oh the guilt I felt back then for "dropping the ball" with meals! I remember wishing for more time to devote to true dinners. Now here I sit with ample time to prepare good-for-them food. And what thanks do I get? My biggest compliment lately was, "Hey! This dinner isn't going to make me throw up!" Bartender? I'll have the usual.
Ain't that the way this mom-life seems to work? You think if you adjust or change one area, things will improve and your mom points will go through the roof. It's a classic "grass is greener" scenario and we should see it coming a mile away. But we never do. We want better for our kids. We want to do more and be more. And we push ourselves too hard! Way too hard! The mom points don't seem to add up because the mom points DO NOT EXIST. All we can do is the best we can with what we're given and then remember to give ourselves grace on the daily. If dinner makes those picky little buggers puke, so be it. That, sister, is why you get yourself a dog. Clean-up on aisle one!
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