I work two and a half days a week. In the olden days, I would have questioned such a silly working pattern and wondered how to fill the rest of my life. As a parent, this is no longer something I need to give thought to.
On my Tuesday afternoons off (ha ha), I run around like a mad woman getting all the jobs done that I can’t do when I have a little person to cart around with me. OK, this isn’t EVERY Tuesday … but the majority at least.
This Tuesday, it was time to batch cook some meals for the coming days. As TJ is on a nap-strike, I have no opportunity to do this during the day and by the evening I struggle to throw something resembling a meal together for myself and TJ’s Dad (whilst said Dad is on bedtime routine duty, not just sitting on the sofa watching Eastenders).
After finishing work at 2pm, I legged it home so I could do a food shop and sharpen my culinary skills before picking TJ up from nursery at 5.30pm. After some questionable driving of both a car and trolley, I made it back to the kitchen with an hour to whip up baby curry and baby pilaf rice.
I don’t always have such a plethora of appetising choices for TJ. He’s no stranger to an Ella’s Kitchen pouch or a Heinz mini meal. He’s also rather familiar with my signature dish – pea puree sandwiches. But I do like to rustle up some homecooked grub now and again, and ignore the fact that TJ seems to enjoy a pouch just as much, if not more.
I peeled, chopped into tiny pieces, sauteed and simmered a wide variety of healthy stuff, shoved it into tubs, let it cool and lobbed it into the freezer with just enough time to ram half a tub of cottage cheese down my own neck before running out the door to collect the little man from his day care.
I am lucky because TJ is far from a fussy eater – he usually wolfs down whatever I put in front of him *touches wood so he eats that damned curry*. He’s never been a struggle to feed (breastfeeding aside), and he’s growing exceptionally well (too well?!) to prove it.
When he gets some more teeth (four and counting now!), I will start giving him more of what me and his Dad live on.
Until, then it’s bespoke baby meals a go go in the Peppis household. You never know, I could just be a mumtrepreneur in the making. (I am not, my cooking skills are terrible).