Tonight, I made dinner. All by myself (with a little chopping help from my sister). We made Rachael Ray's Taco Bowls with Guac-a-Salsa Salad. (She would name it that). And let me tell you, that is NOT a 30 minute meal. So much chopping, simmering, tasting, waiting, shredding, crying (onions), etc. This wasn't some spaghetti and meatballs 1-2-3 dinner. After we finished—a solid hour and a half later—I was nearly too tired to eat.
Is this how my mom feels almost every day?
I now have SO much more respect for what my mom does, and I got a taste of how truly difficult it is to be a homemaker. I was also so worried about what my dad and sister would think, if they would like it. I'm sure that anxiety falls away after a time, but I think there would always be a sting if my family didn't like what I spent time preparing for them. I've never really expressed real displeasure with a meal more than a few times, but now I will completely refrain, no matter how I feel about the meal. It takes a solid effort to make good food—and my mom makes GREAT food.
That was really my first time making something more complicated than pasta, on my own. It was immensely satisfying to finally sit down and enjoy it...and it tasted good! Just making dinner makes me feel like I really did something with my day and contributed (and I even cleaned the kitchen by choice today!)
I jus finished a nice mug of tea and have retired to the couch after "a hard day's work."
Only not really.
I mean, if we're being honest, I only made dinner.. After a trip to a fully-stocked grocery store where I could pick out anything I like with the $40 my dad gave me.
But still, I'll revel in the satisfaction for just a bit longer.