In the five years I’ve owned this blog, I’ve gone from stay-at-home mom who loves to cook, to cook-at-home mom who dreads making one more recipe. It’s not that I don’t adore standing over a stove. Because, lots of times I do. It’s just that life has gotten so much busier. I make recipes full time, I’m writing cookbooks, I’m constantly chasing deadlines on a wildly packed editorial calendar. And, I’m still doing the other mom stuff, too–carpooling and field tripping and making sure the kids make it to school with socks on–nevermind if the socks even match anymore.
It’s in the middle of sheer survival mode that we start to cut priorities. We hone down all the things we want to do to the things that just have to be done, letting the riff-raff fall by the wayside. And, by riff-raff, I mean all the things that would elevate me from harried mom to Pinterest rockstar. I’ve plum near given up on Pinterest worthiness. I thought it mattered for a while, but discovered that kids enjoy parties just as much if I’m not penning every invitation with my own blood while wearing a feather boa. And dessert is much nicer when it’s a simple bowl of strawberries rather than this brownie-baked-in-a-cookie-baked-in-a-donut-hole nonsense. I no longer have time for it, and a I no longer have energy. I’m not giving up on magical motherhood, just giving up on the uncatchable consumer-driven dream that magical motherhoods must include five trips to a craft store, a bottle of Mod Podge, and fifteen cans of metallic spray paint.