Chef...Boy are We!

I am not a child of divorce. My parents have been married for 42 years this June. My husband is a child of divorce. His parents were divorced when he was 13 years old.

I have very fond memories of family dinners..OK...wait that's not the whole truth...what about the memories of those right hooks you'd get if you were caught licking or sucking your fingers at the dinner table? Scratch that...I have fond memories of dinners that didn't involve eating ribs or any food that you'd have to eat with your fingers.

My husband has no real memories of sitting to dinner as a child. He cooked many a meal for himself. (This could actually be a good thing!)

I have one child who is a carnivore. He'll eat almost anything you put in front of him. Then there is my daughter...if it isn't a pancake, bread, banana, cheese, calamari, steak or deli meat, she probably won't eat it. (I know...how on earth did we get her to eat Calamari...simple...we told her it was cheese...of course we have to put a clamp on Eli's mouth when they serve the little octopus looking suckers...he's just chopping at the bit to tell her...little fiend!)

Dinners have always been challenging for me. Not because I can't cook (I'm an overheater you see...my husband calls me this because he says I always cook with a high flame. I tend to burn things...alot!) I consider myself a good enough cook when I have time to cook and not do anything else like homework, laundry or wipe someones butt! I HAVE to cook fast..and eat fast (all mommies understand this...you must eat fast if you want hot food or food at all). So...yes...I take man bites of my food and I am a high flamer!

Recently I've been in a dinner funk. I've been spewing "If you can find it...you can eat it!" for days causing my husband to make dinners (Quesadillas, grilled cheese, rice). My husband has said "enough is enough". Ok.. fine..fine...fine! I get it. I need to COOK dinner...real dinners. This from the "no memory" guy!

My husband's point has been taken. His children will have the memories that he didn't have.

I've committed. I am committed...or I should be committed? I think the latter applies most! Thankfully I am not cooking my way through any cookbook or then I'd definitely be deemed INSANE! Who the hell has time to do that after working eight hours a day with a football or ballet practice thrown in? Not me. So we go from 2 family dinners a week to 4. I get a 3 day reprieve.

I wish they liked TV dinners.

Now wouldn't that be a memory? Or not?