Sunday, February 14, 2010

Fried Chicken and Mashed Potatoes

I love my mother, she loves me.  I love my nephew Caelen, she loves him too.  He loves fried chicken and mashed potatoes, so all of us must too.  Either that or go without most Sundays when he visits.  :)

I have posted about this before, (a long time ago) my mother shows her love through cooking.  I can go back to my earliest memories and find mental images of her cooking her heart out in the kitchen.  Or see in my mind's eye the nights she spent getting perfectly decorated cookies ready for my home room parties in elementary school.  This is simply who she is.

I struggle with that sometimes, because it makes it more comfortable for me to make excuses around food - I mean food means love, my mom says so!  That has no merit though in the end, because she doesn't force me to eat to prove I love her too.  She doesn't fill my plate with too much of her amazing mashed potatoes.  She doesn't make me eat her molten lava cake too.  Nope, I do all that, all by myself.

That was really crystallized today for me when my sister-in-law asked if I got sick of eating the same meal every couple of weeks.  I said no, it's the only time I eat these foods, so it's not a big deal. 

And then I realized, it really isn't. 

I used to think my mom was subconsciously sabotaging me, of course she isn't.  Instead, this Valentine's Day, like many Sundays past and future, she is just showing her love.  I'm the one who needs to show some love for me now, and watch how much I eat.

Yours in health,

1 comment:

  1. OOPS! You know I love you, right? I think I cook for my family because it's the only loving this my mother ever did for feels right, like it's my job to feed my family, I'm sorry you inherited my love of food, really.