Cooking Lessons

I think I could like cooking if I could do it with a glass of wine in one hand and great music piped in to the kitchen. I could do it if I had competent and inspired help in the form of another adult. I think I could actually get creative with food, given time, space, and support. But time is such a rare commodity these days. Due to competition over who of my 3 older kids gets to sit next to me...and my youngest's inclination to want nursing any time I sit down...sitting down to eat is a luxury. Add to that the fact that my husband, Chris, works nights, meaning that dinner is always on my watch alone. So I have to juggle food prep with toddler often underfoot whining at me (or eating potting soil in the corner of the dining room, climbing on the table to play with the candles, removing DVDs from their boxes in the den...) and the three others wandering in now and then for snacks so that, of course, they aren't hungry when dinner is on the table.

Typically, everything is cold by the time the table is set, and I'm ready to throttle someone. I turn into evilmommymonster intercepting my five-year-old with her frequent "just bread, thanks" snacks, and imploring the older children to just please please play with Graysen and set the table! Please!

And on some nights, I am so bombarded with noise and cooking needs and children's requests.... On one of those nights I was about ready to pull my hair out BUT, I got it all together and went to the table, smiling children seated, food still warm (!), and then I looked down to find that someone (Graysen, it turned out) had, unbenownst to me, drawn all over my jeans with blue dry erase marker.

Yes, I was wearing my jeans at the time.

So, I'm not a big fan of cooking. Plus, get a load at the pathetic way I make an overeasy egg.... Yikes!