We’re in a dinner rut.  Or, more precisely, I’m in a dinner rut.  Also a breakfast and lunch rut.  Sigh.  I’m sick of food.  If I never see another skinless chicken breast, box of pasta or baby carrot, it will be too soon.


Our schedule has evolved into a slightly complicated situation.  I hate to complain too much because I know families whose schedules make me want to lie down for a little bit.  But still.  Suffice it to say, three nights a week we are all home to sit down to a meal together.  The other nights it’s leftovers, going out or kid food.

We don’t have the problems with leftovers that some do.  It’s not our favorite, but the microwave, she do get so lonely.  And I figure if we don’t occasionally enjoy a meal reheated in a device that pregnant women are discouraged from standing in front of, we’re not honoring the adventurous spirit of our pioneer ancestors.  The issue, dear readers, is what is left over.

I’ve been cooking pretty much the same meals for the last ten years.  I’ve ventured out occasionally, adding some new recipes, but I pretty much rotate the same stuff.  Everybody eats it and seems to be okay with it, but it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten a “Did you make this?” from Gill.  I love that “compliment”.  It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and also makes me want to punch him in the face.  But isn’t that what marriage is all about?

I’ve asked the Internet so many times for suggestions.  The Internet tossed back some ideas, but it always seemed to want me to spend most of my time on Facebook or cracked.com instead.  I tried to tell the Internet that this was serious.  I needed help!  My little family is…little, so I don’t need the “feeds 6-8” stuff.  No.  Unless the latter half of “6-8” can be frozen.  But I can’t freeze too much because my freezer won’t fit too much.  I don’t know who picked out this fridge in here, but they could’ve forked over the extra bacon to buy an appliance that would, I don’t know, fill up the space for which it was intended.  If my four-year-old daughter can fit in between the wall and said anorexic fridge, dear person who picked out this fridge, it is too small and you are too cheap.  But, hey.  You don’t have to live here, so what the hell do you care?

The Internet said I sounded like a grumpy old man and suggested I play SongPop.  Then it suggested I make a huge batch of something and just eat on it all week.  I told the Internet what it could eat on all week, and then pages started refusing to load.  And that was that.

Eating out is another issue.  Not for dinner but for lunch.  I also hate the lunch food at my house.  I don’t want a sandwich.  I mean, I really don’t want a sandwich like I don’t want a kick in the head.  So, we go out.  Here’s where it gets tricky.  If we go to  a sit-down place, we can get a somewhat healthful meal that will cost me $20.  If we go to McDonald’s, we can get pink slime that will cost me $10.  Either way, we’re spending something like 10,989 times the cost of eating a sandwich at home. Which I believe I said I don’t want.  And either way, I’m probably going to eat some fries which my butt and my self-esteem definitely don’t need.

Speaking of french fries: kid food.  Mommy likes her a nugget, y’all.  And fish sticks.  And macaroni and cheese.  Bagel Bites, Goldfish, Eggos…etc.  Y’all know.  How tasty all those unpronounceable ingredients are.  It’s bad.  It’s bad because I’ve come to rely on these fiendish things more lately, and I should not do so.  Really, they should be treats.  Treats for a child.  Truth is, I never wanted to be the mom who made real food for herself and fed her child powdered cheese food and high fructose corn syrup on a regular basis.  Congratulations to me because I’m not.  We both eat powdered cheese food and high fructose corn syrup on a regular basis.  Hurrah.

So…rut.  And I’ve gotten myself here because I’m lazy.  And possibly addicted to breading.  And I’m pissed off at myself for resorting to the same tired, boring meals every week because they’re easy.  I love to cook.  I need some suggestions, folks.  What do y’all do?  What can I do?  Does my butt look fat in these jeans?