Midnight Lasagna

For some reason, the fact that I’m supposed to feed my family every day always catches me off guard. When the kids were little, I prided myself on hitting all the food groups if not exactly putting together a cohesive gourmet meal. If my family hears, “Smorgasbord,” as in, “Tonight is going to be a smorgasbord night,” they know that dinner is going to be a bit of a hodgepodge. (Although, it’s probably the kids’ favorite meal.) A new food phrase has been added to our household lexicon: “Midnight Lasagna.” It feels like it has potential for the name of a middle school rock band or, the more popular suggestion, the name of my someday autobiography. In reality, “Midnight Lasagna” comes from an ill-timed effort to make an epic lasagna dinner to make up for too many smorgasbords. Lasagna, an abbreviated Emeril recipe, is one of the few meals I’m confident is a winner. A winner that takes until midnight if one doesn’t actually start until way too late.

In households serving midnight lasagnas, hobbies don’t come easily. Finding meaningful moments to read though, has been surprisingly possible. Penning notes in the margins helps me feel connected to my friends even when our lives feel too hectic to get together. It’s a tangible symbol of our commitment to be present for each other. It’s also a sign we all still find ourselves just as amusing as we used to while hanging out in dorms or on apartment air mattresses.

It’s about finding brief moments among the mayhem. While the lasagna is baking or between baseball innings, I’m taking the time to read a few pages and share my reactions with the gang. My track record definitely hasn’t been perfect. More than once, I’ve fallen behind schedule. (Post Offices close too early!) In spite of the self-inflicted stress, reading over the shoulders of the rest of the book club has become both a joyful hobby and an act of self-care.