Day 93, or something like that

I’ve lost count. I’ve cooked so many damn meals they would be melting together if I didn’t keep this photo diary of my daily restaurant specials. I’m quite proud of myself for cooking every meal but burnt out at the same time. Last night Michael grilled veggie burgers and hot dogs and it was a relief not to be in charge. So one night a week should be daddy’s night, I think. The problem is we’re making the most of limited supplies so creativity and skill is crucial. Michael did make this lentil soup this week, and made it entirely on his own—super impressive. So we’re both reaching out of our comfort zones.

I actually think this quarantined time has an advantage in that we are spending more quality time together as a family doing things I like to do—being at home, cooking, watching movies, reading. There’s no soccer or baseball or neighbors yelling in our playroom. Today with video games allowed since it is Sunday, I’m feeling a bit lonely—the kids are doing something that doesn’t involve me, nor that I get any pleasure in. But strangely that isn’t normally the situation these days.

I’ve read a lot about how this time befits introverts (Larry David) and even depressives….which is interesting. There are no social plans or run-ins and we’re all supposed to feel a little bad. Plus we’re at home, where some of us like to be, doing quiet activities. So yeah there are some positives. One of them being: bread. We made this bread—which is something we would never ordinarily do. But it was crazy easy and yummy—it makes a ton so you can keep it in the fridge and bake off a loaf when you feel like it.

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can someone get a sandwich around here?

Sandwich dinner is many family's cop-out meal. Not ours. For us, sandwiches for dinner turned out to be an emotional journey and a major turning point on our road to better times. Some people don't know this but my husband, Michael, is actually the self proclaimed king of sandwiches. See this post. Our kids however shun sandwiches. Last week Mack ate a few bites of salami and cheese sandwich and Michael was glowing for days.

The idea arose this morning. Me: Nate you've eaten 85 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches this summer. Can we try another kind? Nate: no. Michael  "Nate I'm going to make some sandwiches for you to try tonight at dinner," translation: mommy is going to make sandwiches for us.

I bought some new breads and salami, then made egg salad. (It occurred to me that Nate likes hard boiled eggs so what if they were just mashed up?) I'll admit, I was somewhat hopeful that this dinner would change the rest of our lives,

An hour before dinner Nate fell into a funk. I don't want sandwiches for dinner, Don't worry, I said. There are lots of options...." he looked intrigued. "Like hot dogs," I lied. Nate made his way to his room saying he wanted to be alone. I gave him some cool down time then entered to find him crying. I held him, then threw a couple hot dogs in the microwave.

When we sat down to dinner, I was nervous, standing up a lot, making announcements and stopping Michael from saying anything that might ruin my master plan which was anything at all. I quickly spread some egg salad (but refrained from calling it "salad") on a lenders bagel and gave it to Nate, then proceeded to pretend to not care what happened next. Michael made Mack a salami sandwich  and I started to make myself a sandwich when a crazy thing happened. Nate ate the open-faced egg salad bagel and liked it. Next we tried a closed egg salad bagel with toothpicks and he ate that too. I was so excited that I rewarded him with no carrots required AND candy. Michael was pleased. Well done he said.

My theory is that seeing foods that Nate could reject (salami, ham, etc) gave him the leeway to choose something that looked familiar even if in a different form.

Unfortunately neither of us noticed that Mack didn't eat anything and he was up all night, hungry. It was a big cleanup and Michael had to leave early to play tennis in Queens. Looking back I will probably realize what a ridiculous person I have become, with fucked up values and an unhealthy need for my kids to eat well. But for the night, I called it a triumph.