Learning To Eat Real Food.

The thing about writing a blog is that you sometimes have to admit some not-so-awesome things about yourself.

Now obviously I prefer to write about other people (Kevin) and their sometimes not-so-awesome moments.

But I’m giving embarrassing Kev the week off.  (Merry Christmas, Kevin!)

So.

Here’s a thing about me:

I am a horrible eater.

I don’t mean I’m picky.

(But I am.)

And I don’t mean that I don’t eat a lot of good food, instead eating candy.

(Although, that’s true too.)

But what I really, REALLY mean is that I hardly eat real meals at all.

And I really haven’t since the day my parents sent me off to college and signed me up for the university’s food plan during freshman year.

The cafeteria had many, many choices.  Kevin can attest to this because he seemingly tried every, single one.

He still raves about our university’s food.  He’s a freak.

(That doesn’t count as “embarrassing” Kev so it’s allowed.)

But being picky, liking candy and ignoring the fact a person should eat meals — I existed on salads and yogurt mostly.  And snacks from the store.  Which cost extra.  Which thrilled my parents.

So anyway, I’ve been a bad eater for about 15 years.

But  the thing about being a mom is — you can’t be a bad eater.

Why?

Well, for one, your child is watching you.

It’s kind of like Santa except it’s year-round and never ends and if you’re bad your child will end up in therapy.  Which is costly.

And for another, every doctor, friend and book will tell you that at this time in my child’s life, I should start “feeding him food from my plate.”

Ummm…what plate would that be?

My bowl of cereal?  My bagel for lunch?  My crackers and cheese for dinner?

Hey Tom!  Want a Snickers for breakfast?

(I’m sure you do, but they contain peanuts so…no.)

So, you see my problem?

I have to eat like a real person.

I have started making eggs for breakfast.

(Which I absolutely hate.)

But I make them and give them to Kevin.  And then he can give some to Tom.  And then Tom will learn to love eggs and therefore, won’t be a weirdo like his mom.

And I’ve been making real meals at home for dinner so that Tom can see me eat and can share in the joy that is me learning to cook.

And since I’ve been home with Tom this past month, this has been one of my full-time revamps of my life.

And I’m really doing it.

Tom has tried chicken, ham, beans, bread, pasta (oh…lots of pasta) and beef.

And the occasional Pop Tart.

He loves it all.

And so do I.

It’s kind of a drastic change for me.

I am making dinners.

And we eat as a family.

I actually wear an apron sometimes.

Are you picturing this?

Yep.  I’m totally June Cleaver.

I should probably start working out.

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