A few weeks ago, "cooking" meant putting something frozen in the microwave, and "baking" meant boxed mixes and pre-cut cookie dough. So, when Lyla started school and I found a few extra hours on my hands, I decided to travel down the path of real, cook-book-opening, from-scratch cooking and baking.
I started slow, literally, by cooking my first few meals in the crock pot. I've cooked several now, and somehow I always manage to misread something; adding things too soon or mixing things in the wrong order. Luckily, all of my trial-run-meals have been edible, and dare I say, good. But beyond breaking out of our same-old food rut, it gives me a sense of pride that I am actually preparing and cooking new meals for my little family. Even though I've been a mom for over 3 years and a wife for just over 1, somehow something as small as cooking makes me feel like these things for the first time all over again.
There's something about the accomplishment. I wake up, pack Lyla's lunch, send her off to school, come home, chop and prepare dinner's ingredients, and spend the rest of the morning playing with my baby girl while the sweet scent of dinner simmering fills the apartment. I love the fact that my husband arrives home from a long day at work with this smell in the air. I love serving him a dinner that I made. Even more, I love following it with a fresh baked dessert - also made by yours truly. Who knew this new domestication could make me feel so accomplished in my everyday life?
It really is the little things <3
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