Cooking for One

Let me tell you right up front that I am not a Domestic Goddess!  I never wanted to be.  That was not my aspiration.  My sights were set on a different goal.  I had no intention of getting married and I certainly wasn’t going to have kids.  I was going to be a career woman all the way.   At that time of stupidity in my life, I didn’t realize that you can do both:  have a family and a career.

Well, things have a way of not always working out the way we plan.  Most of my life, in fact, has not been what was on the major life course that I had laid out.  Things change and I am so thankful that they did.

The first deviation from the path was ‘this guy’.  It wasn’t one of those ‘eyes meeting across a crowded room’ moments.  We had college classes together and we volunteered at the same place.  We just ran into each other all the time.  It actually surprised me when he first asked me out and shocked me even more to hear myself say yes.

So, the new journey began.  We got married.  After a while, we decided to have kids.  And that was the best decision I have ever made.  My children became my world.  For a woman who had vowed to never have children, I was suddenly the mother bear.  In fact, that was what my husband called me – a lot! – “Mamma Bear”!  Actually, though my children are adults and I am now Grandma and GiGi as well as Mom, Mamma Bear is still very much alive and well.  She is just dozing most of the time.  But she has one eye open, watching.  I try to keep her in check. I am not always successful.

My father believed that people should be as self-sufficient as possible so, being a farm girl, I know how to change a tire and check the oil in my car.  In reality, I’ve never had to perform those tasks, but I do know how.  As a southern bred woman, I learned at an early age how to get someone else to do those things for me.  If fluttering eyelashes don’t work, a checkbook always will!

To that end, I made sure my manly sons knew how to do all those ‘feminine’ things that a lot of guys aren’t taught.  They are great cooks, can do laundry properly, know how to iron and run a vacuum cleaner and sew on a button.  They may never do these things anymore, but the skills are in their memory banks. They can survive.  I am proud of the men they have become.

It’s just me now.  It took me quite a while to adjust to cooking for one.  In fact, for a while, I didn’t cook.  I ate but not properly.  Easy, convenience foods.  Or fast food.  Or pizza, my downfall.  When going out with friends, I always ate too much of the wrong things.  (I still do that, sometimes, if truth be told.)  

One day, I looked in the mirror -really looked- and didn’t like what I saw.  Staring back at me was a haggard, overweight old woman who had been neglecting herself and wallowing in self-pity for far too long.  I grabbed myself, figuratively, by the scruff of the neck, gave myself a good shaking, and had a serious, life-shifting talk with the woman in the mirror.  Yes, I was now a widow but I was not the only person this had ever happened to.  I would not be the last.  This was just part of life.  And I needed to get over myself.

I have great friends that helped but I remade myself that day.  I started a new skincare regimen, I got a new hairstyle, I started doing my nails again, I cleaned out my closet, I dusted off the bathroom scales,  I began to eat properly and I changed my attitude.

The first thing I had to do was quit trying to use my old recipes.  They were written for at least four servings and, if I didn’t want to eat goulash for a week, I had to do something different.  I did some research and found several options for things I thought I might want to try.  One was a subscription service where you purchase a weeks’ worth of food, with the recipes and all the ingredients, delivered right to your door.  There are several available, but I chose Home Chef.  If you are struggling to get into the habit of cooking for only one or two people, this is a great idea.

Now I am doing what I call ‘eating clean’; a small serving of protein, a steamed or raw vegetable, perhaps a green salad, and fresh fruit.  Few, if any, carbs, no sugars or artificial sweeteners, little or no caffeine, no soda.  You know, all the good stuff!  In fact, it is NOT the ‘good stuff’.  We’ve just been conditioned to believe that we need it.  We don’t.  

People, with good intentions, say things like, “Just eat like your grandparents.”  Well, all the grandparents I’ve ever known cooked with lard and real butter and heavy cream.  So that won’t do for me.  Or for most of us.  We must be more aware of what we put into our bodies.  It is the fuel for our brains and our bodies’ regeneration.  If we put in junk, our cells have nothing to work with.

After a while of eating properly and drinking lots of water, I began to see a real change in myself, for the better.  I haven’t lost much weight; that will always be a struggle.  But I look better and, more importantly, I feel better. 

I have finally found my voice.  I had lost it for quite a long while.  I am content with where I find myself in this journey and with what I do.  I’m still a mother, grandmother, and Gigi.   And I write.  I have a lot of stories to tell. Because I have finally recognized the value of taking care of one’s self, I plan to be around for a lot longer to tell those tales.  I hope you enjoy…

Just FYI:  I haven’t thrown out those old recipes.  We still have big family dinners that I like to make.  

Oh, and by the way, I am even less of a Domestic Goddess that I used to be.  But I’m okay with that!  I can always find someone to clean for me.  If fluttering eyelashes don’t work, a checkbook will!