top of page

Three and Me.

  • cynthiafoustvenner
  • Mar 3
  • 2 min read

I enjoying cooking and trying new recipes.


With 3 kids and no adult enjoying my creations besides me?


Shoot me.


Like I said my cookbook will be called, 2 out of 3.


You would think these people graduated from the CIA and worked for the NYT food review.


I say this because...


Because only 2 out of 3 kids will eat anything I attempt.


To say I have lost the love to feed the masses?


Understatement.


I despise it.


What's for dinner?


That is the first thing I get asked.


Not how was your day? Not how many things did you fix, or conversely how many things did you break?


Yeah no.


It's what for dinner.


If I get lucky enough I get a bus text so I can have an extra 20 minutes to disappoint one of my kids.


Cooking?


I don't care.


There is enough food in my house to feed a town and yet you would think I was serving up rocks and hay.


I give up.


So if you see me in a bathrobe at the store with a box of Stouffers Mac and cheese, just walk on by, I am in my happy place.


Or atleast till I get home to my microwave.


Approximately once a month I have a nervous breakdown.


Not medically diagnosed per se, but according to WebMD that is what it is called.


And the only cure is in the freezer aisle.


Again, believe everything you read on the internet.


Anywho...


If you asked my kids is the cure for mom in the frozen aisle?


Yeah, well that is where my heart resides anyways, according to them.


That said, I'll just be here planning another tragedy of a dinner only 2 will eat.


Meanwhile I will be eating 4 day old Mac and cheese leftovers, in a corner, crying.


Because rebranding 'leftovers' as 'Dinner Part 2' hasn't quite gotten the take off like I would have hoped.


No big deal.


Where in the hell did Dr. Spock mention that in his parenting guide?!?


If you don't get the reference you are still in a pack and play, so keep doom scrolling.


Xoxo,

C.








 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Raising Royalty.

The first kid was more of a hail Mary. I biologically wasn't supposed to have kids; without medical help that is. But, well you see, I got pregnant a month after our marriage. Legal on the books marri

 
 
 
Driving Miss Daisy.

If you don't know the reference, stop reading here. I am trying to teach my oldest how to drive while not dying of a heart attack in the process. Side note? Not easy. I remember my dad was the pick up

 
 
 
The Year Of Quiet Solitude.

I have spent this year largely in my own self sequestering. After he died, I felt broken. Like he was another project I couldn't fix. Another failed attempt at something I so eagerly tried, and in the

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

Subscribe Form

Thanks for submitting!

©2020 by 2020 The Year That Nearly Killed Me.. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Twitter
bottom of page