Growing up, my mom made dinner for our family almost every night. We had dinner together more often than not and I look back on those times and am so thankful. It gave us a chance to spend time together, whether we wanted to or not. (Forced family time is best family time, amiright?) We could share stories about our day before we went our separate ways to do homework, watch television, or just sequester ourselves in our room and be moody kids. (Not that I ever did that...) It gave my big brother a chance to make me snort milk out of my nose from laughing too hard. It gave my dad a chance to tell one of his million stories and we couldn't go anywhere because we were too hungry to leave. (Tell us again about Jigs and Fuzzy, dad!) Now here's the kicker- my mom didn't (and still doesn't) like to cook. It wasn't fun for her and she didn't pour over recipes and make extravagant meals every night. She did it because she cared about her family and wanted us to have good, healthy meals made by the woman who will always love us best. (And to this day, she still cooks for my dad most nights, except when she can convince him to take her to a restaurant. Which, to be honest, is a little more often than it used to be...)
So on this, I can totally relate. I don't like to cook. It's not a passion for me like it is for other people. Even the husband loves to cook and can make delicious meals when he has the time to do it. I don't read cookbooks. I don't go down every aisle in the grocery store and think about what next great meal I can make. I don't even write a weekly menu before I go to the grocery store. (As much as the husband tells me I should.) I just buy what looks good and make up a menu as I go along. The husband works long days (Seriously, Marine Corps. He was deployed for a YEAR. Do you still need him for thirteen hours every day? Really? *ahem*) so it's up to me to make sure he has something good to eat when he gets home. It may not always be wonderful, but it's always decent (and edible). (That's still something to be proud of, right? Just because he can eat anything and was in a warzone three different times and probably ate some disgusting things, I'm pretty sure I can still cook better than that.) I love to eat out and there are definitely weeks when my homecooking happens way less than it should, but I'm still doing it. We have dinner at the table just like my family used to do. It's a chance to talk about our day and just be together before the television and laptops consume us. It's a tradition I'm happy to make ours.
...And I think the husband can finally stop worrying that our children will only ever eat chips and salsa for dinner. (They still might, but at least now I can make chicken enchiladas as the main course!)
Tonight's meal: Crockpot lasagna,
made in the fancy pressure cooker.
Fingers crossed it's actually pressuring and cooker-ing.
