Growing Up

I'm kind of a grown up now. It still freaks me out when I think about it. Like an ADULT. I pay bills, I work to help support my family financially (ha ha ha - okay, I work to help keep my car running and my son provided with exciting things like strawberries and yogurt), and I am COOKING. Now, the cooking part is kind of exciting and sad. Previously, I took a sort of PRIDE in my lack of cooking skills. The fact that my oven had never been turned on, I was okay with it. More than okay. I remember I once made lobster ravioli with alfredo sauce for a guy I was dating. This was a BIG DEAL. If I attempted to cook something, something from SCRATCH, well, I was making a HUGE EFFORT. His response? To tell me it was "a little too cheesy" and he "didn't like it". Unbelievable. In that minute I decided, in my head, I would never cook for him again. And I didn't. And the relationship didn't last either. When I met Jeff I also attempted to cook for him. I made him baked ziti that was so bad that it was cold in the middle and burned on the outside. Do I even need to remind everyone that he ate it? Yup, he ate my completely horrible baked ziti. Definitely a keeper. So in the cooking battle I've been making some progress. I cook things that aren't bad. That we can EAT. I'm still working on the whole planning ahead of time and preparing ahead of time thing, but I'm making progress. And you know what? Part of it's a little bittersweet. A little sad. I have left my single days behind me. Left behind a little bit of myself. Stubbornly part of me wants to hang on to my no-cooking motto. But I know it's gone. On the plus side, I did get this great husband and baby boy out of the trade, so I guess it's not all bad!