Feeling Masochistic Today

I am beginning to think that coming up with dinner seven days a week is cruel and unusual punishment.  Honestly I can handle (sort of) parenting my kids, doing laundry and making beds, but this darn dinner planning is killing me....slowly.

Jim tells me over and over again that I make dinner too difficult.  He says to come up with about ten dinners and just rotate them.  Sounds simple, but I just have a mental block to that sort of regimented simplicity.  That and the dinners that he suggests all sound like artery-clogging health nightmares that I just can't fathom feeding my family, let along myself.  Not happening.

So as of this week I am working back towards the beloved, everything-tastes-the-same crock pot.  I have done a few roasts recently and have spent my dinner prep time enjoying the lights of the Christmas tree.  I have also spent an entire paycheck eating out this month and have only now begun the self-hatred that comes along with realizing that you spent THAT on food.  Thus, I am back to the drawing board about dinner and trying to regroup, come up with dinners, and then actually MAKE THEM?!!!

I know countless women that are perfectly happy with making grilled chicken, hamburgers, meatloaf and the like, day after day, but for some reason I feel it is necessary to make life, oh so much more difficult? WHY?  I am ok with everyone eating oatmeal EVERY single morning for breakfast.  Why do I have such a mental block against feeding them broccoli, chicken and potatoes every night for dinner?  Can you imagine?  Although I do think if I made steak every night for dinner, Cody would be thrilled.



Maybe that is my deal?  Perhaps I am looking for the perfect meal?  A meal that appeals to every one's taste buds AND is healthy?  Maybe I just keep thinking that one evening Cody is going to look up at me and say "WOW mom, this is the best tofu stir fry I have ever had...you're the greatest, golly gee willakers!"  I need to wake the heck up...perhaps too much coffee this morning?


Maybe I just get to the store and am like..."been there, made that...gotta make something different"  even though my family has told me time and time again..."make this again mom..." only to not write it down and never make it again.

Perhaps this is my own masochistic exercise that I enjoy taking part in for some weird reason?  You are a bad bad mommy and you deserve to struggle with dinner and your family each and every time you put food into your mouth.  Don't you dare make your life easy and feed everyone steak and potatoes, they will like it to much.  


Maybe I just hate making dinner now because I can't drink my glass of wine while I cook (pregnancy!).  I mean if you can't drink wine while you cook, why bother cooking?  The luster of cooking, the enticement of chopping vegetables is lost if there is not a glass of wine to sip in between the onion and the peppers! Who cares about the damn food, without wine, there is nothing here for me...oh let's just end it all now....hand me the knife....


So there it is... perhaps today I will open the crock pot cookbook and look for a few new recipes for my family to complain about.  I am feeling extra masochistic today, perhaps a nice vegan-veggie bake to irritate them with, they deserve it, they are driving me wacky this holiday break!

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