Fine. You win, ladies.

Those who know me well will laugh when I admit that I really don't like to be outdone. This week it seems like I am surrounded by BLOGGERS. Every time I turn around someone's posting eloquent insights about their life. I don't want to blog! I want my insights to be private or shared selectively! But I also don't want to be left behind while everyone else embarks on a new adventure without me. Hmph.

Diane says I don't have to blog about personal things, she has a friend who blogs about vegan recipes. Even the topic of vegan recipes makes me insecure, because I'm not a Mom who puts much thought into what's for dinner. At one time in my life I subscribed to cooking magazines and saved the food section of the Chicago Tribune to clip the recipes. Since returning to the workforce, that has moved way way down to the bottom of my priority list. There are about 8 things I could make for dinner that my kids both like that don't take much effort from me with time or ingredients. Tonight I outdid myself by making frozen potstickers and shrimp fried rice. (By the way, I make my rice from scratch, with boiling water and everything. And not that Minute Rice or boil-in-a-bag, either. Jasmine rice. Tonight I even added chopped scallions.) My daughter was elated, but my son got braces just yesterday and had a hard time chewing his shrimp. However, they both seemed to appreciate one of their favorite meals.

I really do believe in the concepts of healthy eating, meal planning, and frugal shopping. I admire my friend Mala who raised two sons who love vegetables more than junk food. Joanne has her week's meals listed on her fridge. Amanda B. regularly boasts that the grocery store had to pay her to leave after she redeemed her coupons. I admire those families who make dinner a non-negotiable time for gathering and sharing news of the day. I admire my grandmother who used her china regularly and made every meal a multi-course affair. She would serve us each our own individually molded jello salad on a lettuce leaf ... I would never sacrifice a perfectly good head of lettuce just for visual presentation of fruited jello.

Truth be told, neither my husband nor I grew up with ritual mealtimes, which I'm sure has a lot to do with the loosey-goosey informal meals we serve. My kids do not get napkin rings or individually molded jellos, but they seldom have to fend for themselves. Of course they can make their own grilled cheese sandwiches, ramen soup, pancakes, and scrambled eggs, but they consistently know that one or the other parent has thought about dinner and made sure there was a plan of some kind, even if it was frozen pizza. Not all children are so lucky.

They are fed. They are loved. It is good enough.