Cooking the love

My OH has a real soft spot for takeaways and it shows on his belly, in fact both of our bellies for that matter.  This week has seen me cook at home for the week, without him even contemplating that there is a takeaway place at arms length across the road from our apartment.  So in order to eliminate the temptation, I have coerced him in to eating home cooked meals, made by his darling.  All ready for him when he gets home from work, either ready to eat or ready to heat.  I know its not that amazing to some, but trust me.  If you knew my OH and his soft spot, its a feat to say the least.  My passion for cooking is coming back after making my way to the surface with depression.  When I say depression, its not the prettiest of things or the kind of conversation made over coffee.  But its a reality in the lives of many people just like you or me.  The depressed me was such a nuisance to be around.  Nothing would get done, so everything except our baby would get neglected.  I'm not talking like the house work etc, I'm meaning the making myself feel happy neglected.  I didn't know how to be happy again.  Luckily when I cook, I like to put my love into it to make it taste nice.  I refuse to let anyone with potentially negative thoughts cook, something I am headstrong about and intending on teaching my children.  The kitchen is where I make all my daily decisions, decide my shopping list and how the rest of my evening will play out.  I think through food and with food.  I like things to look visually appealing, so that it influences the way you feel about food.  I want to feel health through the food I eat and I want to make sure that I know what my family are consuming on a day to day basis.