Two years ago, a couple of things happened. I became a mom, and my life as I knew it ended. I know that sounds really cynical and ungrateful, but hear me out. I love my son, and I love being a mom. Being a mom requires sacrificing doing certain things that you love. I was happy to do that in order to take care of my baby boy, but I went totally overboard. Being a single mom, I had to devote all my time to him, with little help, except from my mother whom I live with(yes, I live with my mother, judge away strangers!). But she is disabled and so I don’t like asking for too much help. And so I unintentionally quit doing everything I enjoyed doing. Writing, scrap booking, hanging out with friends, baking, listening to music…..all gone and out of my life.
Recently I’ve realized just how much it has affected me. I was depressed without knowing it(and how the fuck does that happen? I mean, really…), I have lost my love for life, and it has completely affected my level of happiness, and how good of a mom I am. In order to gain my sanity back, and in order to be the best mom I could be, I had to change some shit. In the last year, I have, in a very half assed manner, tried to do some things that I love. I tried writing a blog. I tried getting started on my son’s scrap book. I tried getting into baking again. I got bored with those things really quickly, so they never stuck.
And so I decided to try something new. I was always a fan of baking, and so so about cooking. You don’t get the instant gratification with cooking as you do with baking. It’s harder work. I’ve also never really tried much(except for on holidays) to cook foods that were new, fun, and exciting. I wasn’t even really sure if I would be very good at it, because I get distracted easily, and irritated easily when shit goes wrong, etc whatever.
It all started with my mother saying to me, “Ashley, I really appreciate all that you do around here, but you need to COOK more and stop serving up easy crap!” I love my mom, but hot damn she has a way of being so effectively obnoxious. I rolled my eyes, acted like she was full of crap, but I agreed. Don’t tell her.
So I cooked a few meals. You know what I realize? I’m a fucking GOOD cook. I can adjust, tweak, and change recipes to my liking. Not only do they not come out like shit, but they come out better than the original recipe. I also realized that I could let go of being a perfectionist while I cook, and just have fun. But the best part is when my family sits down to eat, and they tell me how awesome it tastes. Even my 13-year-old little brother, who is the PICKIEST eater on the planet, has been enjoying the food I’ve been making for dinner.
Holy shit, I’m writing a book, not a blog post. Anyway… This is blog is going to be about my journey of self discovery. I’ll write about recipes I cook(which will mostly come from Relish. Holy shit they’ve got good recipes!), and about a lot of other random crap which will usually have to do with my kid. My blog will be full of sarcasm and cursing. Sorry. I can’t be a good cook, a good mom, a good blogger AND a lady.