Ebb and Flow
Life has a natural ebb and flow, doesn't it? Sometimes you're up. Sometimes you're down. Sometimes you are stuck for a while in that in between stage.
My ebb and flow is often reflected in my cooking. I love to cook. Children must be fed, but it doesn't have to be gourmet. I just find gourmet kind of fun.
End of 2009 was stressful. STRESSFUL. I hit November on nervous breakdown mode. Not like "boy, I sure could use a vacation." No, it was more like "they're coming to take me away, he he, to the funny farm, where life will be beautiful everyday and I'll be so happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats." (That's right. They Might Be Giants. Quoted. Check it!)
Anyway, after two weeks off in November I was feeling less crazy and more eh. I hit an in-betweener. I know because I stopped cooking. I didn't just stop trying new things or my meals got kind of routine...no, I stopped. Quit. Nothing was coming out of my kitchen except Lucky Charms.
In December we started eating out. Every day. At first it was fine, but around the end of January when we were still eating out every day, it started to get a little old. So slowly we started transitioning back home. At first we were eating eggs and pancakes, cereal and oatmeal. All my 30 second breakfast-for-dinner- meals.
Then someone asked me to make a big feast, which is Christensen child code for Thanksgiving. And I laughed and said "no, big feast, but I'll make spaghetti."
So I busted out my easy, brainless meals - spaghetti and tacos, lemon chicken and Hawaiian haystacks.
Two weeks ago I really started cooking. I broke out a cookbook or two and planned a week's worth of menus. I went back to the grocery store and shopped. Really shopped. Not just we are out of bread shopping, but real shopping. This week, I shopped again and used coupons! (And saved $67. I told Chad one more week of grocery shopping and I will have paid for that pesky speeding ticket!)
Last night I made seared steaks with chimichurri, baked potatoes, roasted cabbage with balsamic vinegar (winner, winner!) and rolls.
After dinner I turned on Elvis and had the dishes knocked out in classic rock fashion. As soon as my gloved hands hit the hot, soapy water, with Jailhouse Rock ringing in my ears I thought, "I'm back!"
Yes, I'm back. My tides have shifted once again.
But here's what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to waste my energy feeling bad about the natural ebb and flow of my life. I started to, a little. Started planning a small pity party about being a bad mother and eating out too much, but then I thought better of such things.
It's about progress, right? A journey. I cook more than I don't. I read my scriptures more than I don't. I pray more than I don't. I speak kindly more than I don't. So when I don't, I'm not going to dwell on it. I'm going to dust off and move on. Move forward.
We ate out. 3 months. I'm not sure it was my best mothering. But we're all still alive, though, granted, our cholesterol is probably a bit higher. :) But we're all happy. Happy and moving forward.
Ebb and flow.
My ebb and flow is often reflected in my cooking. I love to cook. Children must be fed, but it doesn't have to be gourmet. I just find gourmet kind of fun.
End of 2009 was stressful. STRESSFUL. I hit November on nervous breakdown mode. Not like "boy, I sure could use a vacation." No, it was more like "they're coming to take me away, he he, to the funny farm, where life will be beautiful everyday and I'll be so happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats." (That's right. They Might Be Giants. Quoted. Check it!)
Anyway, after two weeks off in November I was feeling less crazy and more eh. I hit an in-betweener. I know because I stopped cooking. I didn't just stop trying new things or my meals got kind of routine...no, I stopped. Quit. Nothing was coming out of my kitchen except Lucky Charms.
In December we started eating out. Every day. At first it was fine, but around the end of January when we were still eating out every day, it started to get a little old. So slowly we started transitioning back home. At first we were eating eggs and pancakes, cereal and oatmeal. All my 30 second breakfast-for-dinner- meals.
Then someone asked me to make a big feast, which is Christensen child code for Thanksgiving. And I laughed and said "no, big feast, but I'll make spaghetti."
So I busted out my easy, brainless meals - spaghetti and tacos, lemon chicken and Hawaiian haystacks.
Two weeks ago I really started cooking. I broke out a cookbook or two and planned a week's worth of menus. I went back to the grocery store and shopped. Really shopped. Not just we are out of bread shopping, but real shopping. This week, I shopped again and used coupons! (And saved $67. I told Chad one more week of grocery shopping and I will have paid for that pesky speeding ticket!)
Last night I made seared steaks with chimichurri, baked potatoes, roasted cabbage with balsamic vinegar (winner, winner!) and rolls.
After dinner I turned on Elvis and had the dishes knocked out in classic rock fashion. As soon as my gloved hands hit the hot, soapy water, with Jailhouse Rock ringing in my ears I thought, "I'm back!"
Yes, I'm back. My tides have shifted once again.
But here's what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to waste my energy feeling bad about the natural ebb and flow of my life. I started to, a little. Started planning a small pity party about being a bad mother and eating out too much, but then I thought better of such things.
It's about progress, right? A journey. I cook more than I don't. I read my scriptures more than I don't. I pray more than I don't. I speak kindly more than I don't. So when I don't, I'm not going to dwell on it. I'm going to dust off and move on. Move forward.
We ate out. 3 months. I'm not sure it was my best mothering. But we're all still alive, though, granted, our cholesterol is probably a bit higher. :) But we're all happy. Happy and moving forward.
Ebb and flow.
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