I've said it before and I'll say it again: I just do not enjoy cooking.
I don't enjoy the hunt that goes into searching for recipes.
I don't enjoy the thought that goes into menu planning.
I don't enjoy the effort that goes into grocery shopping.
I don't enjoy the time that goes into prepping and cooking the meal.
I don't enjoy the fact that, despite all that time, energy, and effort, the meal is generally consumed in less than 10 minutes (unless you're my 3-year-old, in which case, tack on about 40 more minutes to that).
I'd rather be hanging out with my hub and children than spending time doing any of the above.
My memories of growing up do not revolve around all the actual meals that were consumed by my parents, older brother, two younger sisters, and me.
Nope. Not one bit.
My memories of growing up do involve very vivid images of the six of us sitting around the dinner table, saying our grace, discussing our days, and spending time together, as a family. It was a given that at the end of the day, despite full schedules of school, work, and sports and dance practices, we would meet together, at the table, as a family.
THIS is what I hope one day resonates with my children: That time together is important. That we eat dinners, at the same time, together, as a family. Every night. Around the dinner table. Not for the purpose of indulging on some immaculate meal I spent hours (away from them) preparing. Not gonna happen. But. For the purpose of simply being together.
I may not provide the best home-cooked meals (although, I am happy to report that we, as a family, are now committed to using as many organic foods as possible and eating less processed foods-at least the few meals I do prepare are healthy, right? Right?), but I will ensure that there is always a family-filled dinner table waiting.
This is my job as a Momma and I take it seriously: Allow my children to be the beneficiaries of a childhood that is painted with beautiful memories of togetherness. Because I highly doubt that what was on the menu each evening will color their memories. But. I do believe they'll remember the time we spent around our table, praying, laughing, sharing, and being together. In my opinion, those are the makings of any good meal.