I have spent so much of my life thinking everything had to be either … or. It’s not. It’s really both … and. And the world is better for it (so am I).
Beef Pot Pie
On Saturday, I made a from-scratch beef pot pie.
I had some chopped up roast in the freezer, so I got it out. I cut up potatoes and carrots and boiled them in beef broth. I fished them out of the pan and dumped them into a bowl with the meat and some frozen peas. Then I thickened the broth with corn starch.
While that was going on, I made pie crust. My mom’s recipe. Super simple, but flaky and yum. With the super cold temperatures, I expected it to tear, but the dough turned out perfect: elastic and easy to roll out.
I rolled out the bottom layer, dumped in the meat and veggies, poured the gravy over it all and put on the top layer. Crimp the edges … good to go.
Then, of course, I had leftover pie crust, so I got out some jars of the apple pie filling I canned. Seasoned them with some extra cinnamon, and put together an apple pie.
Oh, and I still had some pie dough left over so I made three apple popovers, too.
Frozen Chicken
Here’s the thing, though. My kids don’t eat pot pie.
I spent a couple of hours making homemade yumminess because Eric and I like it. But with the pies baking away, I still had nothing for my kids to eat for dinner.
So, I pulled out a bag of frozen breaded chicken strips and popped them in the oven right beneath the pies. Made some green beans and tossed the sandwich bread (still in the bag) on the table with the peanut butter and some jelly jars.
And while Eric and I ate the good stuff, that’s what my kids had for dinner.
Both … And
You could read this post and be super impressed that I made all that food from scratch. Or figure I’m just bragging and be annoyed.
You might read this post and roll your eyes about feeding my kids frozen breaded chicken strips for dinner. Or about the fact that I didn’t force my kids to deal with life and eat what I made. I mean, no wonder they’re so entitled: I made them an entirely separate meal.
But life isn’t any one thing. We aren’t perfect all the time. We don’t have it all together, like homemade beef pot pie or apple pie. But neither are we always messing up or making questionable choices, like frozen chicken.
Sometimes dinner is both … and. And sometimes, so is life.
- Life is super fancy china AND paper plates.
- It’s both making your kids eat what’s in front of them AND putting what they’ll actually eat on the table.
- Parenting means holding the line on something important AND sometimes letting go of something important because it’s just not that important right now.
Dinner is both … and. So is life. I’m both … and. So are you.
You are strong and emotionally fragile. I am kind and cranky. We have good days and bad days. Sometimes we pray and sometimes we swear.
Being Real
We hear all the time about how social media skews our perception of other people’s lives. How we compare our terrible Tuesday to the very best (edited) version of their life.
And we know how problematic that is. How it affects our mental health and all that.
But even in real life, as we walk down the street or check out at the grocery store, it’s so easy to put on our either … or face.
We act so perfect. We say “the right thing.” We pretend so that no one knows just how close we are to tears or just how bummed we are that someone with 17 coupons took EVERY single box of cereal off the shelf for her stockpile. (Not kidding, that happened to me once. I just wanted one box of Honey Nut Cheerios, dang it!)
We fight our tendency to be either … or by letting ourselves be free to be both … and. By letting other people show off their both … and.
No more pretending. No more false fronts–online and in real life. We are both … and. I am. You are.
And whether it’s at dinner time or just normal life, it’s okay to let it show. Because when we let ourselves be real with each other, the world is a better place to be. And we are better versions of ourselves. Every time.
