An "aha!" Moment

I used to love to cook.  I used to love to cook, that is, before I had kids.

In college and as a newly wed I developed an appreciation for all things culinary.  I eagerly explored new foods, spent hours strolling the isles of "fancy" grocery stores, drooled over kitchen gadgets at Sonoma Williams, and most of all, took great pleasure in hosting dinner parties.

Back then.  Now, the mere thought of cooking dinner for my family can fill me with dread.  Apparently, I have lost the joy of cooking.  So this week I began asking why.

Why is it that my culinary joy has disintegrated into dutiful (and I'll admit it) occasionally resentful meal-making.  Why is it that I cringe when I hear my kids' inevitable question, "What's for dinner?"  And don't even get me started on, "What's for snack time?"  Oh! how the 'S' word simmers my brain.  The process feels like such a drain now: the planning, the shopping, the storing, the prepping, the cooking, the cleaning...YUCK!

Why is something that used to be a joy now a chore?  I interviewed myself:

Is not because you don't like food?
No, I really, really like food.

Is it because you don't value meal time?
Nope.  Table-time with the fam is one of my favorite parts of the day.

Is it because of the sheer constancy of feeding people day-in day-out?
Maybe.  That responsibility does become draining, but I've learned when to let myself order pizza        and take-out and whatnot.  That's not truly the joy-sucker for me.

Is it because you are continuously surrounded by at least three, usually four, little humans who tug and pull and interrupt, leave their toys in the kitchen, put their fingers in your bowls and generally make the cooking space ten times more chaotic with their eager-hungry presence?
Kind of.  But not really.

Here's the thing. One day this week a miracle happened: I cooked two meals at one time without being interrupted.  I have no idea what my kids were doing at the time.  I blatantly ignored them and chose to bliss-out chopping and stirring and wafting away. Blissed out by myself in the kitchen.  Those meals were made with love and joy and were all the more a pleasure to serve because of it.

It turns out, I'm an introvert.  I take great delight in being all "inner" with myself as I create a meal.  This is the "aha" part.  Cooking--whether it is a full blown gourmet meal or an elevenses snack--is a creative endeavor.  I have never named it like that before, but the truth of it is really liberating for me.  No matter how complex or simple, cooking requires creative energy and I have more pleasure exerting that energy when I have space to think, to create.

Now the question is, what do to with this new perspective?  How do I honor my need for introspective creative time in the kitchen while embracing the reality of my big-family/little-house lifestyle?  I definitely don't want the kitchen to be mysterious no-go zone where mom slaves away in culinary martyrdom.  Nor do I want my current free-for-all kitchen of chaos scenario.

I am sure there is a clever balance or strategic boundary setting approach out there.  I'll let you know when I find it!  If you relate to this, do you have any tricks?