Guru Mama Mel's Mess hall

I am typing this blog and I hear activity in the kitchen.  The kitchen.  Mess hall is a more appropriate name for our "kitchen" anyway.  The room in the house I am learning to despise.  The 2 year old is chanting...."Mom....I want some tea....Mom....I want some tea."  Raising a good Southern/Puerto Rican boy.  He loves tea.  Hold on, I have to make sure he isn't pouring it all out in the den floor for sport.
 ****BREAK****
I'm back.  He was pouring it into the "God Cup".  Explanation:  that is the little green cup with a picture of Jesus on the side.  Don't know where we picked up that piece of fine china.  The Kitchen.  I love to cook.  Really I do.  I love to watch the Food Network.  Then I realized I was getting fat because I was trying to cook all this stuff they make on the Food Network.  Maybe I was watching the wrong shows.  But I just can't eat a tiny plate of food and be happy with that.  Last night I ate a cheeseburger and a crap-load of chips for dinner.
****BREAK****  2 year old spilled tea on his Batman socks....Holy crap Batman!  He is freaking out.
I have all the tools and some know-how in the kitchen.
Cooking:  The meals I cook are edible and sometimes good.  Here is my rant for the day:  I have to cook dinner every night.  The truth:  most every night.  Sometimes I suck and go get pizza.  For the most part, I don't mind the cooking too much.  The spouse works hard every day.  He brings home some bacon.  I am proud.  However, I do not look as good as Giada or Rachael when they are just steaming up some veggies or cooking up a "simple" sauce that is so versatile it can be used for anything.

No....Who really looks like this besides Giada?  She is gorgeous.  Show me a chick running around the kitchen with a t-shirt, no bra, yoga pants, and croc flip flops on.  That's me.   And don't forget the 2 year old running into me every 3 minutes.

That's more like it.  I am running around like a blue-arsed fly trying to keep the mashed potatoes from overflowing on the stove and checking to make sure the meat is fully cooked.  (I am a freak when it comes to making sure the meat is cooked through.  I actually tell the waiter that at restaurants..."Make sure the pork is cooked all the way through.") All the while, I am hollering at the 2 year old to get himself out of the kitchen before something awful happens to him.  Sometimes I pop open a bottle of cheap wine....it makes things easier.  I sure wish I could cook what I want....but the spouse only eats meat, mashed potatoes, and corn.   See how many meals you can come up with only using those three ingredients.  Anyway....I like to listen to Pitbull while I am cooking.  Dancing with my wooden spoon just doesn't work out when you have a 2 year old beneath your feet.  I am sure that Mr. Worldwide would agree.  
Serving:  I am always the LAST one to get my food and sit down.  Have to cut up meat for the 2 year old's first helping while hollering, "Come eat y'all!"  Get plates out of cabinet...or dishwasher....still hollering, "Y'all get in here and eat!"  15 year old emerges from dungeon, "What?"  "Time to eat." "Gosh."  And if you have seen Napolean Dynamite, you know exactly what that sounded like.  15 year old piles food on plate.  "Other people have to eat, son."  15 year old is 6'2", 179lb.  Eats lotta food.  Spouse fixes plate.  I put juice in the God cup and fix 10 year old's plate.  I fix my plate.  I have to cut up meat for 2 year old's second helping.  I make my way to the den with hopes that someone hasn't snagged the recliner.  ("I called it first!")  By the way, we don't eat at the table anymore.  BAD mommy...I know!!!!!  I always swore when I was younger that the family would always eat at the table together.  Screw that!  The kitchen table is a "catch-all".  We don't have to pray over our food...because I have been doing that the whole time I was cooking!  It's already blessed!  It's more fun for us to watch "America's Funniest Videos" while we eat anyway.   I've heard enough about their day from 2:30 PM until now.  Why do I want to hear it again?  Of course, by the time I sit down to eat, everyone else is done eating.  So I sit in my recliner and start to eat my dinner.  2 year old says "I done.  Let me out."  several times.  I clean up highchair tray plastered with mashed potatoes mixed with juice from the "God Cup."   Then I get up and go wash everyone's dishes.  God forbid if any of them know how to rinse off a friggin' plate or even put it in the sink!  I spend the next several minutes cleaning the mess in the kitchen...while a 2 year old runs into me repeatedly because it's fun.  (This whole scenario is assuming that the 15 year old does not have practice of some sort thrown into the mix:  football, wrestling, or track and field.  At that point, forget it....pizza.)  Next, chances are I change a poopy diaper....getting everyone ready for bed is another reason to drink.  I finally sit down in the den....and the spouse is tired from work so he gets ready for bed.  The spouse's job is another blog....
So don't complain when you get $5 pizza from Little Caesar's for dinner.  You're lucky you are getting that these days.  We keep Little Caesar's in business.

And I was thinking...maybe I could just go to the bathroom ONE TIME without someone busting in on me.   Gotta go...the 2 year old just informed me that he is eating "hot chips and they are good."  No telling.....