I'm no Martha Stewart. In fact, I'm sort of the opposite. A confession: I probably stayed with my X longer than I should have because he cooked for me. I'm not necessarily a foodie, but I certainly prefer to have my food served to me than do the serving.
When I did leave my X and was left to fend for myself (and the girls - unfortunately both on solid foods), I tried many different cookbooks and online menus, but I still hated the whole process. We survive now mainly because of DreamDinners.
Sylvia couldn't wait to start her cooking class this semester. I wasn't excited; I was too fearful that it would result in even more time in the kitchen for me watching over her...not to mention, that she would finally see what a loser I am in the cooking department (just what I need: another reason for my tween to disrespect me).
I'm pleased to report that the experience thus far has not only been a success, but a wonderful source of bonding for us. Now Sylvia cooks for us every Sunday night.
In Sylvia's homework projects, I've mainly been able to step back and observe and she's impressed me with how well she can handle it. She has a great attitude about it, and has learned safe cooking procedures thanks to her teacher.
It's a source of pride for her to cook a meal, and how could that not be a source of pride for me?
Dinnertime used to be a time of battles for us. Because Sylvia remembered her dad cooking, she used dinnertime as a means of expressing her frustration at the lack of control she had over the situation. Never the best of eaters, she became even pickier, and would refuse to eat things she had enjoyed in the past. While I understood this, it didn't necessarily make it easier - especially since cooking was never my favorite thing, and now I had to be concerned if she was actually getting the food she needed.
It's gotten easier over the years, but by doing the actual cooking, she's far more willing to experiment. On Sunday nights, she beams, and the mood is infectious.
I have a lot of fears for Sylvia's future: what kind of man she'll love, how independent she'll be, how she'll weather the many obstacles she'll meet along the way that I won't be able to shield from her. There's comfort in knowing that she'll not only be able to nourish herself, but take pride in doing so.
This post is inspired by SV Moms Book Club pick for May, Comfort Food by Kate Jacobs.