It would be true to say that at one time, I LOVED cooking. I loved reading recipes, imagining how I would tweak them, watching cooking shows, browsing cookbooks at the bookstore then taking all that inspiration and making a great meal. Sean and I would come home from work, pour a glass of wine, turn on some music, and cook wonderful dinners. I would go so far as to say it was one of my favorite things to do.
But that was then.
Things change.
That change is having children.
See, now I don't have the luxury of browsing cookbooks to find some great recipe for a culinary experiment or a journey for the palate. Like most mothers, I come home from work to a dark, empty house with hungry kids in tow. Often times having also squeezed in a workout at the gym or a soccer or basketball practice along the way. My goal is to get a healthy dinner on the table and fast. Add to that making sure it won't break the bank, contains no boxed/pre-packaged stuff, and something everyone will eat. We do this every night of the week except our splurge on Friday night when hubby and I get Mexican take-out after the kids are in bed.
Accomplishing this is no small feat and it is stressful. I don't enjoy it. It takes planning and not the it's-3pm-better-start-thinking-about-what-to-make-for-dinner kind of planning. I mean the make-a-menu-and-complete-grocery-list-for-the-week-then-doing-the-shopping-on-the-weekend kind of planning. Not rocket science by any means, just some basic planning.
Do I still watching cooking shows? Of course. And I also follow a lot of great foodies on Twitter. These are the folks that give me inspiration.
But do I love to cook? No, not in years. I am a mother and right now, cooking is a responsibility, not the enjoyable pastime it once was. Hopefully that will change again someday.
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