I've experimented with every possible type of menu planning, and by far the most successful was the once a month cooking plan. By Thanksgiving, I was out of free weekends in which to purchase, prepare and freeze all those meals. If I was in the kitchen all weekend, the housecleaning and laundry were not taken care of, which caused problems during the course of the week. Perhaps the kids can get away with running around in a bathing suit for days were it July, but by December that sort of thing is generally frowned. So, meals become a last minute magic show. To the common observer the fridge is bare. After scrounging a bit, some tuna and macaroni surface in the pantry and it's a tuna casserole night. When desperation really hits I fall back on pancakes for dinner. When even the eggs and buttermilk are no more, there's always angel hair, olive oil and garlic.
If only groceries could be delivered to the door, like milk in the 50's, that would really improve the fare around here. Should we skip math and head to Publix. Sigh. We are already a lesson behind, and do I really want to drag six kids through the store. Oooh, look. I just found another package of Ramen Noodles.
Of course, making the list is a whole other saga. When it is finally prepared and put on the back counter, death to whomever moves it! There's nothing that matches the frustration of loading up the car and making a quick run to the back counter to grab the list and ---it's gone!
The sense of accomplishment felt when the menu is organized, the list made, the shopping complete, and the refrigerators and freezer are full is really quite something. Then I find myself on the prowl for whomever might be a menace to my meal preparation and eat up some important ingredient as a snack. Labels on food containers abound: Do Not Eat. Injest and be Shot. My brother gives me a reproachful look. "Gee, Jenn, I just wanted a glass of orange juice." I glare, " it is not breakfast time. If it were, you could have 6 ounces, but certainly not the 12 ounces you just poured yourself. Do you know how much trouble it is to run out for more orange juice mid-week with six kids in tow and three grades of homework to accomplish?" This is the kind of miser I've become.
My husband does regularly ask if he can stop at Publix and get something for me. My mind is not on food. "Nope, don't need anything," I say as I'm holding the phone to my ear and checking a spelling test. " Do we have milk?" He asks. " Ah, no, we don't," I respond. He sighs. " What about OJ." Let's see, are there two c's in occasion, I'm thinking to myself. "Oh, OJ? No, out of that," I finally respond. Back and forth we go, until Jon's got quite a list in spite of my initial, " I don't need anything." Think of it this way, if you'd been home all day long dealing with six kids, would you prefer your husband to come straight home for adult conversation or go grocery shopping?
Enough about the food, think of the dishes! By the afternoon, there's bowls, lunch plates, glasses, bottles and some pots and pans overloading the sinks and counter. Sometimes I feel like a shovel would be most useful in plowing through the carnage.
"What's for dinner, mommy?" How about I just clean the kitchen and we all have a nice hot cup of tea and go to bed. You guys are looking a little fat, let's all go on a diet. SlimFast anyone?
