I used to think all food I gave my babies would be made from scratch. Ha! For the record, I also used to think it was a good idea to perm my hair. Life has that funny way of changing our minds. Now I'm much more about what works. If we're running short on time, it's English muffin pizzas for Vivi and graham crackers with cream cheese for Charlie. But I won't go as far as saying they are semi-homemade. C'mon, that's just cheating, plain and simple.
I've discovered a food blog, Dinner: A Love Story, that chronicles the meals a working mom creates for her family. Since we need lofty goals, I pretend I might be as gourmet as she is someday. "Someday," in that far off future when my kids clean up after themselves and my husband rubs my feet without me begging him.
Ahhh... *Moment of Silence*
But in reality land, I am--generally speaking--not that great at creating meals from scratch these days. It's hard to resist that can of soup or jar of pre-made applesauce. So I'm already worshiping the Dinner mom blogger, and then I read this story about how she's been writing down every meal she has made for dinner over something like ten years. Shut the front door! Can you imagine? I'm not Type A enough to do that and besides, who wants to look back and see we had "fish sticks and tater tots" again? Oh, BTW, Vivi calls Trader Joe's "Tater Joes." Gotta love three-year-olds.
No comments:
Post a Comment