#trypegan

Everyday, I make two full meals from scratch (I might skip on the weekends sometimes). Breakfast and dinner; I eat leftovers for lunch, the kids eat at public school, and my husband grabs something quick from Walmart to Flip Side. Considering that-- now you know why.

Not sure whether to be proud about this or if I should check in with my shrink, but one of my first thoughts in the morning is, “What am I going to make for breakfast?” And as I ruminate about this for a moment while my kid is talking to me about some other instance at school, I then move onto planning dinner once I have breakfast secured. 

And the questions come pouring in, “Momma! What’s for breakfast?” I respond with certainty, and they know, that is what they are having for breakfast. Oh no no no, homey don’t play that “I don’t like it” game. You eat what I serve or else. Your reward is a sophisticated palet. 

I am particular about every singe ingredient that crosses my lips and enters my beautiful body. And I wonder, how the fuck, ANYONE, can eat garbage..

Straight up: I am a judgmental jerk off about that. And unapologetic about it. I have reduced my now deceased grandmother to tears and I almost tore out of my mother’s house the other day over sugar.

And I feel terrible about that. But you know what. I am RIGHT.