Turd T-Shirt Thursday: You Eat With Your Eyes; I Guarantee You Will Want To Lick This Plate

I would never have thought that I would have been the one to know how to cook. It was a pivotal moment in my life when I refused to eat the attempts of sustenance by my children’s father. An effort of love went into it, but if you eat like shit, you tend to look the part too. And from that moment on, I wanted to eat with my eyes first before making any dish for my family.

My first pregnancy was a scary and rewarding journey.

Weeks had passed with good results in my blood and urine tests, and the baby had been looking good during ultrasound sessions. Until the day my doctor told me that I needed to go to genetic counseling. Hearing that made my heart drop, and I thought I did everything right during their first half of gestation. It made me question my past activities of heavy drinking and smoking that abruptly stopped when I found out I was having a baby.

The questions that led to sleepless nights and insurmountable guilt on the reckless behaviors of my past drove me crazy. Realizing this added stress wouldn’t help, I decided to clear my head of assumptions and wait until my appointment to hear what they had to say. It turned out I had Gestational Diabetes and had to inject myself daily with insulin. This required a complete 180 in my diet and the pain of pricking my fingers several times a day. I knew as long as I did everything by the book, all would be well. Low and behold, my baby was born healthy and not affected in any way by my condition.

I was a working girl at the time, and my son’s father and I hadn’t lived together previously since my pregnancy. The concept of cooking for myself was minimal and primarily take-out; I could have said the same for him. The first meal he made for us was angel hair pasta with homemade meatballs and jarred sauce. After the first bite, I vowed I would never eat anything he makes ever again.

And here I stand before you today, a better cook and baker than I ever was in my earlier youth. Now that the first is much older, he is unknowingly thankful that I cook the meals for him and not his father. I’ve created delicious confections, savory dishes, and marinates. The flavor made some misses, but it made me better returning with hit after hit with dinner for the past ten years. You eat with your eyes; I guarantee you will want to lick this plate.