Today is the 5th Monday of the month.
These are the odd weeks. The shifting week. Starting with one month and ending with another, you never know quite which month you are supposed to act in. Which month’s goals do you focus on? Which month’s bills do you pay? This is the week that I share a struggle.
I feel as though I am not alone with this particular struggle. Either you love to cook, but never have enough time to plan and prepare a delicious meal for your family the way that you think you should, or you hate cooking.
When my boys were young a very dear friend of mine gifted me with this tiny paperback book titled, “The I Hate to Cook Cookbook”. It was about the size of a small dime novel, and contained selections of the easiest recipes and the author’s commentary on the loathsome chore of cooking. The book is riddled with great recipes such as “stay a bed stew” and the like. I found it simply delightful to read and I could completely relate with the author’s feelings towards the art of cooking.
I am no Julia Childs and I never wish to be.
That is my confession this month. I have six very hungry guys in my house and yet, I hate cooking for them.
I don’t even know how I survived the early years with toddlers. It is very much like being in the trenches. Now that my men are older, they help plan and cook the meals each week. This is how I have overcome this struggle, but I assure you, it was quite by accident.
I was so desperate for help in the kitchen, that my guys have been my right hand men since they could sit up. Every mother at some point masters the art of cooking one handed with a kid on her hip. Only, I put my kid to work. Every meal was created out of desperation with a toddler on the counter.
Clearly God had my back when it came to cooking. Not only haven’t I poisoned anyone, but all five of my boys can cook. So if you find yourself hating to cook or loving it but without the time to complete it perfectly. I urge you to set aside your dreams of a perfectly clean kitchen or perfect dinner and involve your young children in the kitchen. Because a teenager who can hold his own in the kitchen is a wonder to behold.
Well said. And if the proof is in the pudding, then your young men take the cake…
(I’ve seen them eat it, too!)