Cooking For an Army of Four

When I was growing up, we ate dinner at 5:00 every day. Everyone was present, no excuses. Once in a while Dad would teach a night class, which meant we ate Lean Cuisine and salad instead of the usual meat and potatoes. Or rabbit (that's a story for another time). We had a delicious, home made, balanced meal. We discussed the happenings of the day and bonded as a family. That was then.

The last several months found me frazzled when it came to preparing dinner. Ian is getting pickier by the day. Ainsley just gets an attitude once in a while that sends me through the roof. Steve is rarely home at dinner time, except on the weekends. And after school activities during the week prevent us from having regular sit-down meals. This goes completely against my grain.

I am learning to adjust.

No longer do I expect us all to be seated at the table at 6:00 with napkin in lap and a hearty appetite. I am grateful if I can get three-fourths of our family to sit for thirty seconds at a time throughout the meal. Napkins? HA! My kids use their sleeves, shirt fronts, and pant legs for cleaning up, if they wipe their hands and faces at all. Using silverware is NOT optional, even though fingers are easier to manipulate. It's a constant battle to teach and reteach the same mealtime manners every evening. And it's exhausting.

There is no wonder why, over the last several years, I have given up on gourmet cooking. Oh, there was once a time when Steve and I would never eat the same dinner twice in a month. Every meal was an experiment in tantalizing flavors, scrumptious textures and colors and glorious aromas.

Now I try to limit chicken nuggets to no more than three meals per week with sandwiches ... sandwiched ... in between. That is all about to change.

My girlfriends get together once every few weeks and make entrees in bulk, then take them home and freeze them. I envy that their children will eat just about anything that is put before them. While I have yearned to join their group, it just didn't make sense to prepare huge casseroles that my children will not consume (no two foods are allowed to be combined or touch on their plates, or all hell breaks loose).

Today, in a stroke of pure genius, I came up with an alternate plan. I am going to prepare as much of the weeks VARIETY of menus as I can in the next twenty-four hours, freeze some of it, and relax the rest of the week. No more McDonald's drive-through in an emergency. No more mac-n-cheese from a box. No more friggin' chicken nuggets!

My mother-in-law bought me a new programmable crock pot for Christmas, and I plan to use it as much as possible. The bread maker that I so dearly love, will become its best friend as they sit side-by-side on my counter humming and rumbling and baking delicious meals for my family. Ian and Ainsley will surely give each appliance a special name. They believe all inanimate objects can talk and should have names. They will probably be very unique ... like "Bready" and "Crocky". Their first task: to make chicken soup and corn bread for Steve, who has been knocked out by a winter cold.

Did I mention it was 81 degrees yesterday? Just thought I'd throw that in.

The weekly menu is planned. The grocery list has been made. Now all that's left is to get my butt to the store and start shopping, chopping, stirring, and savoring.

If later today you see fire trucks outside my house, you'll know I overloaded the circuits in the kitchen. Wish me luck!