I don’t know how she does it. She being mothers of any sort. I babysat last night, and not only are my arms incredibly sore and tired from holding one heavy Monday-to-Friday baby, I also am exhausted, starving, and bewildered. Okay, now I’m being melodramatic, but my arms really are sore.
In any case, let’s bring this back to cooking and food (naturally). As the three children were (I thought) sleeping peacefully in bed, I ran downstairs to finally eat some dinner. I was starving by this point, as it was hours later than my usual dinnertime, plus I had ran earlier in the day which always kicks my appetite into overdrive. I popped a microwave meal in, as I wanted the fastest possible meal ever. But before the 90 seconds of nuking it were over, I could hear the baby crying. F. My. Life.
I ran back up, grabbed the baby, pacifier in the mouth (his, not mine), and brought him downstairs. I’ll just stick him in the exercise chair while I eat, I thought. Wrong. He must’ve sensed my “I need two hands” and wouldn’t have it. So there I am, holding him on one hip, trying to eat my ridiculously lame, microwaved, low-calorie Trader Joe’s lasagna. Which got me thinking. How the F do moms do it!? How do you cook a normal meal with three kids running around like little crazy people? When you can’t take your eyes off the food—or the kids—it poses a problem. Trying to do both seems like it would equal overcooked chicken and a crying child.
So, I gave up on the lasagna and focused on the babe. After changing, bottle, and finally having him go back to sleep, I ran back downstairs again, and shoveled the rest of the food in my mouth. At this point, I could care less what it tasted like, just wanting any sort of nourishment. Afterwards, I sank into the couch and turned on the TV. I texted Alec, “I don’t know how parents aren’t raging alcoholics. I need a drink so badly.”
His response, “Yours weren’t?”
Sigh. Props to the parents out there!! I don’t know how you do it! In the meantime, I’m going to have to practice cooking tofu stir-fry one-handed in anticipation.