It really is that simple.

Some days, baking in the kitchen looks like premade cookie mix. And guess what? My kiddos didn’t think any less of me.

And I guess now you’ve gotten a little insight into one of those weird mom-guilt things I tell myself.

Baking, cooking—the kitchen in general. You name it. I’ve had this almost paralyzing view of this one part of my home for a long time.

Whether it was worrying about calories, or my imperfections being known, the kitchen always felt daunting to me. Like there was a big, bright neon sign hanging over it saying:

You’re not good enough at this.

Then add in the world of organic-this and healthy-that, and all the alarms would start going off in my head until eventually I landed at: No thank you.

The kitchen was for other people. Eating out was best for me.

Until this economy decided to lose its mind at the same time my kiddos decided to become teenagers. 🤣 And eating out for a family of five is now simply a waste of money.

But that’s a rant for another day.

For now, mamas, I guess I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been dipping my toes back into the world of cooking.

And you know what?

I haven’t been burned so far.

Emotionally, anyway. Physically is another story. I’ve already dried out some chicken and burned my finger during this new little kitchen hobby of mine. 😂

But in place of the burns and dried-out food, I’ve had a few wins too.

Hubby loved his birthday dinner and said it was one of the best meals he’s eaten.

My middle child—who is FULL of opinions—said my pumpkin cream chai was better than Starbucks.

And a couple of times, both teenagers have actually emerged from their rooms out of curiosity because “whatever you’re cooking smells really good.”

If you have teenagers, you know that’s basically a five-star review.

And somewhere between the premade cookie dough, dried chicken, birthday dinners, and dishes, I think I’m starting to rewrite some of those old fears I had about the kitchen.

I’m replacing “I’m not good enough at this” with little memories that say:

“Hey, maybe this isn’t so bad.”

Although I do have to say…

I understand my mom now.

Why are there SO. MANY. DISHES?!

Pots. Pans. Plates. Silverware. Somehow a spoon I don’t even remember anyone using. You name it, it needs to be washed.

So yes, I’m falling back in love with my kitchen.

But please send prayers for my sink. 🤣