Putting ketchup on corncakes

So, my friend E (aka fake lesbian Target-loving friend) came to visit yesterday (yay... it was so great to see her in a completely different environment; we had a fantastic time) and we got to talking about gender roles and things like that, as women are wont to do. It's something I've been thinking about a lot this week.

Suddenly I find myself here, at home, with TMH at work all day (and night, depending on the day). Now, I have never really thought of myself as a "traditional" woman (whatever that means), and I know TMH doesn't think of me that way either. He doesn't just expect me to do the housework, I mean. He is proud of my career and my graduate work and super supportive (must I mention the 3 years of distance we've undergone basically so that I could do my graduate work at all?). But here I am, with so much to do (for work and for home), and suddenly I think I should be cooking dinner every night.

Well, I should. We have to eat, right? And now I have more time and flexibility than he does. Once I start teaching, we'll have to see how it shakes out. In the past two summers we did a pretty good job of sharing such responsibilities, though in general I expect to be the one with more flexibility, at least for the foreseeable future. I must admit, one of my goals now that we do live together is to learn to cook more, and to cook better food. He has said the same (he wants to cook more, and eat healthier) and we have good food at our fingertips here. In my single life I'd just make a big lasagna or casserole and freeze it, or make a huge pot of chili or soup and freeze it, or eat spaghetti and sauce. I clearly can continue to do that, but it's not the best for summer, and I want to spice up the routine and actually cook sometimes. Anyway, I have tried my hand at a few recipes this week, and thanks to my good friend Sunshine Mom, I have some good inspiration and a friend to go to for advice. I am definitely out of my comfort zone, though, and I have a new appreciation for how hard it is to be responsible for meals everyday. Even just making sure you have all the ingredients is an ordeal! (I know once the kitchen is better set up with staples it will be easier). I can only begin to imagine what it's like to have kids, when you really are responsible for keeping them alive and healthy. Jeez, the pressure! If I mess up dinner, at least TMH can fend for himself.

Anyway, so I've been cooking dinner. It's mostly gone fine (though I am making really simple stuff) but I am insecure about it, which is never good. The ridiculous thing is that TMH doesn't expect me to cook and he doesn't understand why it's a big deal (He is not insecure about much, if anything, as far as I can tell. E and I talked about that too. Why are girls raised to doubt and boys raised to think they can do anything? UGH). So the other night I finished the dinner and served it to him and he wanted to add something to the meal before he even tasted it. And I got so MAD. Ridiculous mad. Like, who cares? But oh, I was mad. And I remembered a big fight my dad and stepmom had long, long ago. She made corncakes (a Southern favorite-- oh, so yummy), which is kind of an ordeal. After all her time over the frying pan, she served them to us, and my dad proceeded to dump ketchup all over them. She hit the roof. Oh, and when she got mad it was a scary sight. Not pouty like me, but full on rage. "You're going to pour ketchup all over my beautiful corncakes?!?!?!" Clearly it was memorable, since the memory is still quite vivid 23 years later! And I didn't get it at the time. What's the big deal if he wants to put ketchup on something? But oh, now I do. I really do. So there you have it: my new appreciation of the challenges of domesticity.