Dear family,
You want to know why I break down around dinner time? Really, you do? Well… I’ll tell you why.
Because, yes, I try to make it look effortless. But the truth is, it isn’t.
Grueling? Absolutely. Cooking isn’t just cooking. It’s planning meals, hunting for ingredients, organizing, shopping, and yes—sometimes battling Susan at Aldi because she has four items less than me and still wants to cut in line. It’s dodging eggplants thrown my way by an annoyed checkout clerk. It’s cooking the meal, making it look beautiful, and then running back to the store because someone mysteriously ate the cheese—because apparently, it’s not just “Mac and cheese,” it’s “Mac and nothing-does-anyone-else-notice?”
It’s opening the fridge or cupboard and staring at the ingredients, asking yourself:
Do I have enough?
Am I missing something?
Can I afford the fancy cheese?
Will there be leftovers?
Should I freeze them?
How long will the leftovers last?
Will anyone actually eat it?
Will they like it?
Who won’t eat it?
If I make it too yellow, will my 5-year-old freak out because it looks “vegetable-ish”?
Do I have time to cook properly, or does it have to be lightning fast?
Who’s hungry?
Is it even healthy enough?
And… who’s cleaning up? Me, again?
This is the mental marathon that repeats three times a day: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every single day. It’s another layer of the invisible load we carry—the mental labor that slowly drives us mad.
And yes, it’s 2019, yet women are still the ones who cook most nights. We’re socialized to not just cook, but to love it, because we’re nurturing, giving, homely. So it’s no wonder that the person who’s practiced the routine—the one who’s done it a thousand times—is the one who ends up in the kitchen.
And then the chaos hits: the 5-year-old screams, “Yuck!” The 3-year-old is furious because there’s not enough. The husband snuck some biscuits because dinner took too long. And suddenly, it feels… personal. Like a full-on attack. And you can’t help but imagine the worst. (Not literally, but sometimes, maybe.)
So here’s to the dinner makers. The planners, the shoppers, the cooks, the ones who carry the invisible mental load while making it look effortless. May your patience be endless, your cheese never vanish, and your family’s “Yuck!” turn into “Yum!”
Cheers.
