I DID know

I did know it was going to happen. On a subconscious level, I even asked myself, "Amanda Daybyday? Are you sure you want to do this? You're only asking for trouble and frustration." Yet, I reasoned with myself that maybe this time would be different. And even if I found 1 winner, all the effort would be worth it.

And now, I sit before you...frustrated.

It's the typical frustration of a mom just trying to feed her family healthy meals. The frustration of a woman who just wants a bit of variety in her diet without cooking a separate meal for herself. The frustration of a gal with an admittedly dysfunctional relationship with food trying to find a balance for everyone between enjoyment and nutrition.

On my quest to fill my freezer, I've also been trying a lot of new recipes. I like trying new recipes. I like eating new and different things. I've been trying new and exciting oatmeal recipes for breakfast, interesting things with tuna and even attempted a dish with cream of chicken soup (since the husband refuses to allow the presence of cream of mushroom soup in our home...and yes, he will know if it's in there. You can not trick my husband...he will know if there is even a minute amount of something he doesn't like in a dish. He will. Trust me). Some of these recipes, I will admit, were bombs. Okay, will not make that again. But others have been yummy and I've ended up eating the majority of it because, well, no one else will. Sigh.

Growing up, I remember what it was like to be fed stuff I didn't like. I hated it and since I was expected to clean my plate...I hated it even more. We don't make our kids clear their plates because we know it's part of the reason we have such issues with food, however...one little taste does not constitute a fair shot at something. Of course, they come by it honestly. I tried a new (and might I add, quite tasty and calorie laden) tuna recipe the other day. I made my husband try it after he got home from work. He disliked it strongly and when I pulled it out the next day, I couldn't even tell where he'd tasted it from.

Ironically enough, my comfort in this whole process has been my dear, sweet, can't-eat-anything-that-is-runnier-than-honey, tube feeding baby girl. Yup. She eats my food because she's not yet had the chance to make her judgments on food. My husband knows what he does and doesn't like. My eldest son does not do well with change (so really, I must commend him that every meal has not ended in a meltdown). My second son is easily swayed by the opinions of his older brother. But, she'll chow down as my boys pick at and squish the food until it's unrecognizable. If I hear the question, "How much more do I have to eat?" on the already scantily filled plate sitting in front of them one more time...I think I will scream! My latest comment has been, "If I didn't want you to eat it, I would not have put it on your plate."

Thus is the life of a mom. What can I do? I'm not giving up...so I guess we'll just plug on. Throwing in Kraft Dinner and Campbell's Tomato Soup once in awhile to appease the masses.