Posted in Me, Parenting

Martha Stewart I’m Not

One of the things the bloggers I read post are their menus for the week. Lovely organic, fresh from the garden, home-cooked meals. I love reading them, but come away feeling somewhat guilty and defiant when I’m done. My menu for the week, you ask?

Monday: Tacos (first time ever we’d had this since the kids were born)

Tuesday: Hot dogs, mac’n’cheese (from a box), carrot sticks

Wednesday: Chicken Stir-Fry

Thursday: Grilled Cheese sandwiches and tomato soup

Friday: Pizza – from a pizzeria

Saturday: Sloppy Joes (not from a can), salad

Sunday: Get Your Own

Taco seasoning, hot dog preservatives, boxed macaroni and cheese, white rolls and soup from a can. Yeah, Martha Stewart I’m not. But in a family of four children, with one who has major texture issues leftover from preemie life, one who struggles with chewing well, one who will sit and cry and go to bed before eating a vegetable except carrot sticks and one who is ok at eating, cooking is a challenge. Hot dogs appear on our menu literally every week. Spaghetti is every other, as are eggs and toast. So, no, you will never see me display with pride my menus (until the kids move out and then yee-haw!)


One thought on “Martha Stewart I’m Not

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