Breakfasts of Champion

During the school year, we have the added bonus of eating at the boarding school's dining hall. Being a SAHM now, this can be a major energetic luxury. If I want, I can walk my toddler down to the "hall" as we call it, pick out meals from many choices, chat with other adults (even if it's just in passing), compost our leftovers, not have to clean a pot or a plate, and walk back home. It takes up time, it's a great toddler activity, someone else cooks for us, and we spend a lot less money on groceries.

But these photos are not from dining hall excursions. These are quick meals I assembled and ate by myself in the last week.

As neither a food nor cooking writer, why am I sharing this with you? Because I thought when the dining hall closed for the summer that I would be at a loss. That I would feel burdened by the shopping/planning/cooking/cleaning up, that feeding my toddler would be extra difficult (why.don't.they.just.eeeaaattttt??!), and that I would be sad about all the money we're spending on food (while Ojai has amazing local foods and farms, the cost of food seems higher than when we lived in Los Angeles).

In reality, it's been kind of wonderful. Yes, we have the added logistics of planning and shopping, of spending more money, and of cleaning up all the dishes all of the time, but I think that cooking and eating my own food is a major way I care for myself. As my friend put it, this is one of my self-care love languages.

When my mother comes to visit, she goes food shopping immediately. She buys more food than 4 adults can eat in a week, including sweets and snacks I don't normally buy, plus at least 3 different types of bread. But she cooks. She makes full breakfasts of eggs, bacon and toast, deli sandwiches with two sides for lunch. There's coffee cake to go with the endless pots of coffee and full dinners - meat, carb, vegetable. She buys it, cooks it, serves it, eats it, and cleans it all up.

And I'm realizing, not for the first time, that I can be just like her. I assumed this behavior was a "mothering" trait - once you have children, you cook for them, no matter how old they are. But on this last visit, my dad insisted that my mom enjoys it.

When she cooks, she knows she's getting a meal she wants, the way she wants it, and for much less money and extroverting than a restaurant would take. Looking back over the school year I can see that some days waiting for the dining hall to open meant ignoring my hunger, or eating foods I didn't want, or just took an energetic toll on my body and senses (toddler walk there, toddler walk back, a lot of socializing and noise if I was feeling highly sensitive).

After cooking and eating my own food for the past three weeks, I feel like I'm thriving. Thinking about it, it's been years since I've enjoyed this. Between pregnancies and miscarriages, new motherhood and working full-time, I gave up on grocery shopping and cooking. I ate a lot of Starbucks spinach feta wraps and peanut butter and honey sandwiches. H took over grocery shopping and a lot of the dinner cooking. I just couldn't dredge up the energy it all seemed to require.

This makes sense, because in that time, I sort of gave up on myself. I didn't feel worthy of my own attention. And in the past year, not working in an office and being home all day with a toddler, meant that I was learning to hear my needs/wants again, and also put them above a demanding, present kiddo. The dining hall was a luxury, a support, and kind of a crutch.

Here, a year after making a bunch of life changes, I'm finding my way back to this concrete and boring self-care action. I'm not cooking for other people (even though they may eat the food I make). This is for me.

It feels like a sustainable life-line, listening to what I need and want, and doing my best to give that to myself.