I made this sandwich for myself recently. I bought all the ingredients at the store. I toasted the bread, tossed the arugula in vinegar and oil, sliced the pear and blue cheese, and layered on proscuitto. All the while knowing that nobody else in the family would want one of these delicious sandwiches too.
That felt strangely decadent.
Then I remembered that this is what I used to call “grocery shopping” and “making food”. How long had it been since I shopped for and made a meal with only myself in mind?
And of course, that’s completely understandable. I have a family, and I cook for three other people now. But it made me realize how little I think about myself when it comes to eating. How often I take care to make my kids a snack and then scarf down a handful of peanut butter pretzels over my computer keyboard. How I buy the pricey red raspberries and give them all to my kids. How I order dishes at restaurants that my family doesn’t like instead of making those foods at home for myself.
I suspect I’m not the only mom who does these sorts of things.
I need these moments to remember self-care and how important it is, how it really does feed the soul (and in this case, the belly too). So I’m going to make some sandwiches that only I like. I’m going to take time to mix up overnight oats so I have a special breakfast waiting for me. I’m going to cook myself a lovely plate of scallops.
Because my kids may just discover a new food they didn’t think they liked.
And because I’m worth it. And so are you.
