There's something strange about that

For almost 20 years of my life, most meal times were a frenzy. Supper was usually calmer and more organized, but breakfast was: eat whenever you make it downstairs, lunch: if you don't want what Mom made, make something yourself, supper: sit down, more organized, but got pretty crazy when we were in institute and had to leave at 5:30.

Snacks: a totally different thing. After Wednesday night church was the worst. Seriously, we were making meals. Different meals. All of us. Well, except Mom who took one look at the chaos and headed to bed.

It was leftover chicken from dinner, chips and salsa, potato chips (free from church of course), oreo cookies, fried potatoes, fried eggs, toasted bagels with creme cheese...I'm serious. Anything and everything we could get our hands on because for some reason we were starving.

And now I'm married with one child. Tonight I made some pasta and a salad and sat down, all alone, to eat.Brooke had already eaten and Nate had to work late, so there I was all by myself. No competition. No fighting for my food. I could have had as much as I wanted. I saved some and it won't be gone in 2 hours.

There is something strange about that. I'm still not quite used to it, especially that I was just home for over a week and was reminded that food is your source of survivial and if you don't get some in, hmm, about 45 seconds, you won't get any at all.