When my partner and I decided it was best for me to leave my job to care for our children, I envisioned myself as the ultimate home chef. I pictured evenings filled with culinary artistry, chopping and stirring while enjoying a glass of wine. My kids would be perfectly entertained, allowing me to recreate scenes from cooking shows like a pro. I even bought a set of stylish glass containers to proudly showcase my pantry staples. I was determined to prepare homemade meals from scratch every single night, and I wanted everyone to notice my dedication.
However, after just two nights, reality hit hard. There was no artistry in my cooking—just sweat and chaos. As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, all semblance of calm disappeared. My children, rather than playing quietly, erupted into a whirlwind of noise, with toys scattering everywhere and one of them inevitably having a meltdown. Even a favorite movie and snacks couldn’t pacify the situation.
I tried to maintain my vision of culinary bliss, even attempting to sip wine while prepping dinner. But that ended with me spilling my drink all over the raw chicken I had on the counter, which shattered my glass. Instead of savoring a lovely evening meal, I was faced with a decision: salvage the chicken or opt for a quick soup. Soup won out that night.
Despite my struggles, I persisted. My childhood memories were filled with the delightful aromas of my parents’ home-cooked meals. I had once found joy in cooking; it felt therapeutic to create dishes like goat cheese-stuffed pork loin and homemade dressings. But that therapeutic energy seemed to vanish overnight.
I kept pinning recipes on Pinterest, convinced that meal preparation was a core responsibility of any stay-at-home mom. But I soon realized that my main duty was simply to survive the day and ensure my kids were fed, happy, and healthy. To all those incredible moms who whip up gourmet meals, I wholeheartedly admire you. But I came to terms with the fact that I couldn’t keep up.
Now that I’m back in the workforce, there’s no way I can muster the energy to make homemade lasagna. Frozen dinners have become my go-to, and surprisingly, my kids love them. Once I accepted that I was still preparing meals—just without the stress—I found a new sense of happiness. Those rotisserie chickens that smell divine in the grocery store? They are meant to be bought, and when paired with a simple salad and steamed rice, they make a satisfying meal.
Stocking up on frozen pizzas and canned soups has been a lifesaver. After a long day, the easiest option is often the best. This new approach to dinner has not only improved my mood but also led to happier mealtimes. My kids are less likely to complain about a quick meal than they are about me stressing over a complicated recipe only to watch them pick out the unwanted ingredients.
And let’s be real: no one in my household appreciates lime zest. I learned this the hard way after adding it to my guacamole, resulting in a comical mishap that left me with pulp in my eye during our grand Mexican feast.
If you’re managing to keep your kids alive and well, you’re doing great! It doesn’t matter if you’re serving mashed potatoes with Grandma’s meatloaf or those frozen burritos (which are surprisingly good) topped with ketchup. Dinner time is not meant to be an Olympic sport. Martha Stewart is not going to knock on your door asking why you’re serving cereal for dinner. It’s okay if you’re not channeling your inner Bobby Flay with exotic ingredients.
For now, I’ll save my culinary flair for other areas of life, like remembering where my kids need to be on any given day. Maybe my passion for cooking will return someday, but for now, I’ll always have a stash of frozen meals and macaroni and cheese on hand. After all, it’s more important to be a happy mom than one who’s stressed out over breaking manicotti shells.
Summary
Embracing a simpler approach to cooking has made me a happier mom. Rather than striving for elaborate homemade meals, I’ve learned that providing nourishing, quick options allows me to enjoy dinner time with my kids. Frozen meals and easy preparations have become my lifeline, and I’ve accepted that keeping my family fed and happy is what truly matters. If you’re in a similar boat, remember that survival is an accomplishment in itself.