Cooking... Blech!

As a single mom, I can't get around it: I have to cook. Unfortunately, there are sooooo many other things I would rather do with my time! I know there are people who love to cook and who take pride in preparing fresh, delicious and nutritious meals for their families. As for me, I'm not one of them. I'd rather be out taking a walk, or sitting down with a good book. Of course, necessity dictates that instead of cooking I should get the kids to go play outside instead of plopping down in front of a DVD movie after school. But I can't take them to the park if I'm standing at the counter chopping, peeling and sautéing, can I? I should make sure they start and finish their homework, and that they don't rip each other to pieces every time an argument erupts. (Which, with the boys, is pretty much every day!) But that once again forces me to leave the onions in the oil until I go make sure everyone is doing what they should be doing. In the meantime, the onions inevitably burn.

I can sort of remember a time when I didn't think so negatively about cooking. That was when my daughter was a toddler and I started involving her in "big girl" activities. Basically, everything I did, she did, from cleaning to laundry, to cooking. I remember I would plan our meals and then organize the cooking in view of what Daughter was able to do. From a very early age, she was able to peel potatoes and carrots, and even when we didn't need those for supper, I would sometimes have her peel cucumbers for cuke slices to go with our meal. She could slice cucumber with a special children's knife I got her from Pampered Chef, plus she used those little plastic knives I saved if we ever ate fast food. (Rarely, but still.)

Daughter had her own tiny apron and when I cooked she would sometimes pull a chair over to the stove and help me stir. Of course, for safety reasons, she never did this alone. I held the wooden spoon with her and we stirred together because I was afraid that if she did it alone, she might stir too quickly and splash herself with hot water, or she might stir too strongly and pull the whole pan off the stove and onto herself. As it turns out, of course, you can never protect your children enough. Despite how careful I was, despite how I tried to predict any dangers and prevent accidents that way, Daughter still burned herself once. Of course, it was a time when something unforeseen happened: we were playing in the living room when the bread machine beeped to indicate that the bread was done. I went to take the pan out of the machine, and as I was holding it with oven mitts, Daughter ran in from the living room wanting to help and grabbed the pan from the bottom barehanded. Ouf! She did cry, the poor little thing! We put her hand right under the cold water tap and after a few minutes the whole incident was forgotten, but even that accident did not turn me off cooking. I don't know what did, but somewhere along the line I came to hate it.

Thinking of that incident with Daughter, another thing just occurred to me: when was the last time I even touched a bread machine? I can't recall. I don't even have one any more, but I know I did... sometime... in the past...

I guess what has taken the fun out of cooking was that I don't have time to enjoy it any more. Although Daughter is still interested in cooking, more often than not, she will start a recipe and then leave me to finish it. If only I had that luxury too! But no, I am the one stuck in the kitchen while she goes off to whatever has distracted her from the task. I can remember one exasperating afternoon when she asked me to help her prepare something, but every single time she had to do something, I had to call her several times because she was so focused on watching whatever film it was that the boys had but in the DVD player. Definitely, somewhere between that time when we cooked together and today when I dread cooking more than any other household chore, something happened.

I can definitely identify a transition period when the intention to cook was still present, but even though I bought all the ingredients for a certain dish, we couldn't get organized in time to cook the dish together with the kids. More often than not, the ingredients would go bad before we finally got around to cooking them. I remember HATING to throw anything out. That was about the time I stopped involving the kids in cooking and just went ahead and threw the meals together myself. No fun. 

I don't have any miracle cure for finding my way back to liking cooking. I don't even have a vague plan. Cooking has become an inevitable chore that is in no way becoming any more gratifying since my kids are picky eaters to begin with. I think the only dish I can get them to agree on is palacsinta, a kind of thin Hungarian crepe that we spread with jam. Anything else is a gamble. First Son and Daughter like meat lasagna, but Second Son won't eat it. Daughter and First Son like hot dogs, but Second Son definitely doesn't. He likes hamburgers, which Daughter is willing to eat but which First Son hates. Second Son loves macaroni and cheese, but the other two won't touch it because it is unnaturally yellow. (I agree!) And so it goes on, and on, and on... Hard to cook anything everyone will like. Even the old standby, pasta, is getting difficult to serve, since only Daughter will join me in eating it with spaghetti sauce and shredded cheese. First Son prefers it with poppy seeds, second son with cheese but no sauce, or with only cottage cheese. I usually try to cook enough so that we have leftovers. In this way, something someone likes is bound to overlap with the meal on a night when they don't like what is being served. Still, it's hit or miss. And I practically never prepare my own favorite dishes, like perogies with onions and almonds, because there is no point investing the time when no one else will eat it with me.

The point of this post is really not to complain. Nor is it, as I state in the first sentence of the previous paragraph, to try to find a way to make cooking more enjoyable. I'm simply posting to acknowledge that cooking is a necessary part of life, and if you hate this chore too, I hear ya!

On the bright side, with spring finally here and summer just around the corner, I will soon be shaking out the old picnic blanket and reinstating the much-loved tradition of picnicking for supper. There is no simpler meal that buying a fresh baguette, some cold cuts and sliced cheese, and tossing in a cucumber, some carrot sticks and some cherry tomatoes. The kids bring along their water bottles and the meal is ready. Kids not hungry? No problem! Send them to the monkey bars for half an hour and they will eat when they have worked up an appetite. We even picnic in the rain: I spread the blanket in the living room and we eat with the windows open, listening to the rain. It's great! The best part is: no cooking! :o)