This product contains no yucky ingredients....

Martha Stewart does not live in my house. I mean, that's what this blog is called right, so there should be no question. There is a plaque above my stove that affirms this very fact. I do not spew 'good things'. I do not make bows out of discarded newspaper funnies. I don't sift my flour, salt, and baking soda together. And I certainly don't grow baby salad greens or other exotic vegetables, hell, I can't even grow tomatoes. I do however... cook. I cook A LOT. Mostly because I have to, ok... all the time because I have to. And perhaps if it wasn't for the clean up, or the itty bitty size of my tiny kitchen, or the critiques of an amazingly picky 10 year old I venture to guess that I would actually enjoy cooking. Almost like a hobby. (Hence my expanding waistline- or maybe that was caused by the Funions. A moot point really- although I do like funions.)

Now way back when I was married to my first husband I really was lost in the kitchen. Growing up my mother fried steak in a skillet (ok, steak didn't happen often, but spam did) and followed the directions on the back of the rice-a-roni box. My dad cooked amazing things, but he did it so infrequently I really didn't glean much from it, only that he apparently took lessons from Julia Child- i.e. a little drinky for the dish, a lot of drinky for him... if ya know what I mean.

This all left me a little lacking in the cooking department, and my first husband was rather traditional and expected me to do the cooking mostly all the time. Not good folks, not good. Mushy meatloaves abounded, burnt spaghetti sauces, chilis, chicken; these were all common. And if I managed to get it right in my mind, he would inevitably make the comment- my mom doesn't make it like this. No, she didn't. She didn't use recipes, or processed food, that came in boxes. I was clearly inexperienced and out of my element and he seemed to delight in this. This caused a great resentment towards cooking... among other things.

Fast forward- I lost the zero- as we all know- and moved onto the hero (another blog for another day). I have amassed quite the collection of cook books and cooking magazines. Those magazines are evil. They would jump right off the rack at the check out line and end up in my bag, and be all like yea!! And I would be like Yea! I'm gonna cook this and that and that other thing on that page over there and shit! I cook and unicorns appear sliding down rainbows of glitter and landing on butterfly wings etc etc. Sgt. Dad loves my cooking. He raves about it. He whines about not having it in the 'sandbox'. (you get the point) Which brings me to my current problem.

Sgt. Dad is not here, and will not be here for quite a while. And before you start stalking me and my house in real life cuz I am (alone)- weirdos- please know that I have a shotgun and 100+ lb. monster hound/ rotty mix and we will hurt you so don't do it. Had to be said. Anyway- moving on. Like I said- he's not here, and so I have these children to cook for. The oldest- he pretty much devours any part of a cow, and not much else. My booger-butt... well he's the worst... pbj, microwaved cheese quesadillas,  and that mac 'n' cheese that comes in the blue box- you know the one. That's all. That's it. He's 10 and that's about all he puts in his body. I don't know how this kid grows. Everything is yucky to him. Now the twins have their hit and miss days. Some days they do like things and then a week later... they don't. That's the age they're at. I get it.
So what's the point you ask after all this rambling? Well let me tell you my esteemed reader.... I am sick and tired of trying to do right so to speak. The whole balanced meal thing. The more time I spend cooking the less inclined they are to eat it. Especially Booger Butt. I'm sick of blue box mac n cheese and peanut butter and jelly. And most of all I am sick of, 'I don't like this'. OMG- did you even try it?! Every single danged night. And it's not like I can take a night off and let someone else do the cooking and get the critiquing. Nope. All me. All the time. I don't like to take them out. It costs too much, and well the twins are 2. So I guess I am looking for ideas. Minimum effort meals for maximum rewards. I don't generally ask for advice from others. It usually irks me (again- another blog for another day). But if you have a fail-safe tried and true meal for picky folks please share it.... unless it has ground beef in it... Booger Butt won't eat that cuz it's mushy.

~sigh~ dang picky kids......