Me-n-Cookbooks, TLA

Now that I'm forcibly semi-retired and my staff won't let me do "work" anymore (e.g., compose press releases that have to be rewritten, because I used my MFA "mad skillz" and made it a sonnet or a haiku or made it all about babies), I have to get my organizational yayas out in other ways.

I have started a menu selection process for Hub-D that gives me chills I love it so much. I create a weekly checklist of possible menu items, and ask him to check off seven of the 20 or so choices. Then I wait eagerly outside his office, wringing my hands and kind of leaping around, "What will he choose? WHAT will he CHOOOOSE!!??"

It's like my college days, waiting outside the professor's office for him to post test results, or in high school, when they posted the cast list for "Brigadoon" or whatever musical we had going (I was NEVER cast. Ever. A total oversight, clearly.)

This is all part of my money-saving and healthy-family efforts -- no more take-out -- it's filled with trans fats, it's expensive and wasteful, and I get such a charge out of cooking for my family. My only fear was that I would produce meals that Hub-D wouldn't like. He's not a very persnickety eater, but he doesn't like to be surprised. (e.g., I told him I was thinking of making a Lime Shimp Caesar Salad today and he almost vomited.)

HENCE the CHECKLIST. And I vary it every week, based on new recipes I uncover, and I delete the poor little meals that haven't been chosen for several weeks (I'm sorry, we just can't cast you in "Oklahoma," Glazed Salmon With Yogurt Sauce, but better luck next year! Oh, and you can USHER if you want.)

Did I mention that I code every entree with the proper cookbook, so I can go directly from the checklist into meal planning? Yeah, I do that.

The way I see it, I spent the last 12 years of my life building my career. I ran all over the place, finishing my graduate degree in Boston while running Las Vegas trade shows and absurdly scheduling interviews for Dale Earnheart, Jr. during the Daytona 500 in Florida while serving as a bridesmaid in Cleveland. Basically, I had a cell phone attached to me for the last decade, having heart attacks when press releases contained typos and prioritizing my job over every other concern.

My relationships with men were crappy and I despaired of ever having a child while I compensated by treating my employees as my offspring and spending late nights futzing with PowerPoint presentions... ("Parallel construction, DAMMIT! Who put these periods on only HALF the sentences??")

And now, this is my sweet reward. Hub-D is managing the business more than I am, I have my sweet Babycakes lurking at my feet, and I get to make up for all the stupid chicken fingers I ate on the road. I get to make healthy meals in my own kitchen and feed it to them until they are happy and satisfied. That is friggin' AWESOME.

And if Dale Earnhardt, Jr. wants to stop by and have next week's Turkey Cheeseburgers and Corn on the Cob, well, heck, he's always welcome, as are you. Because I'm a mom now, and I feed people, and it feels GREAT.