I wear lipstick all the time now. Almost all the time. I like how it dresses me up. It brightens up my day when I’m not feeling well. It’s not that I’m bluffing behind my lipstick. I’m just taking care of myself. So I took a selfie because self care includes selfies.
Monday was a sad day. I took my daughter and myself to brunch. Never underestimate how food can comfort. And if you don’t believe me, you’ve never experienced how a cup of coffee starts time around you.
As I exited Minute Maid Park that evening, I looked around me, trying to remember where I parked. In front of me were concrete baseballs, a crane, and the Downtown Houston skyline. I quickly pulled out my phone and tried to take a picture before a car crossed in front of me.
I don’t cook everyday. I don’t know if it has anything to do with how I was raised (my mom worked an 8 to 5 job and I remember clearly how tired and frustrated she would get on occasion because she didn’t feel like cooking), but I cook when I feel like it. Other times I freeze food and warm it up when dinnertime comes. This weekday evening, however, I had planned on making enchiladas (I’ve been on a Pinterest binge lately and I’ve pinned several crock pot recipes). I made the chicken the night before and left it in the pot while I went to the ballgame). The next day I used it to make enchiladas.
I enjoy cooking a lot, and so I try to cut myself some slack when I’ve had a rough day or when I’m too tired to put together a meal. I like making meals because I see it as an extension of love. I internalized the mantra “women don’t have to be homemakers to be of value,” so I cook not just because I feel I have to but because I want to. I see it as a way of taking care of the people around me. If I like you and you live close, I will probably cook for you. I take the time to chop, slice, research, bake, wash, with the idea that I want to provide you with something that will fill your tummy with happiness. Because I love you.
I need a new pan though.