Comfort Food for a Tired, Grumpy Day

A commitment to show up and write my truth | Day 310 of 365

I’m tired and a little grumpy, and if you ask me what I want to eat, the answer is yes.

This is a safe space, so I’ll just say it. Today I ordered an Impossible burger and skinny fries from Fatburger to share with my husband. (I know, I know. Processed, processed.) Before I placed the order, he reminded me to add a second order of fries. That man knows me.

We ate it in the car. We don’t usually eat like this, and we definitely don’t usually eat in the car.

Yes, friends. It’s one of those days.

The Day After Relief

Yesterday I wrote about God’s protection and the relief that came when something I’d been carrying finally made sense. That relief is still with me. What I didn’t expect was how tired I’d feel today.

Relief is good, and it can also be heavy. When you’ve held something for a long time, your body doesn’t always get the message right away that it can set it down. Sometimes the exhale shows up a day later, and it looks less like peace and more like wanting someone to hand you a vegetarian burger.

So today I’m thankful for something very ordinary. Somebody else made the food.

Comfort Food and a Little Grace

Comfort food gets a bad reputation in wellness circles, and I understand why. I care about what goes into my body and my family’s bodies. I’ve also learned that really listening to myself means looking at the whole picture, not just the nutrition label. Most days what I need is a vegetable. Every so often, it’s warm fries in a paper bag and twenty quiet minutes with my husband.

Here’s the part I’m still working on. I can spend one slow, cranky afternoon and somehow turn it into a question about how I’m doing with my entire life. Am I off track? Shouldn’t I be further along by now?

You know that spiral. One tired afternoon becomes evidence in a case nobody asked you to build. Meanwhile, the next right thing is usually much smaller than the story. It might be a meal. It might be sitting still long enough to eat it.

Today I chose the small answer. I was hungry and worn out after a big couple of days, and I fed myself. I’m calling that discernment, the plain, everyday kind that can tell a hard day from a hard life.

If your day went sideways and the most useful thing you managed was lunch, let that count. You were taking care of the person who has to show up tomorrow.

The Cookie Did Not Go Unnoticed

Oh, and there was a Crumbl cookie, too.

My daughter usually eats a pretty healthy, organic diet. We’d set aside some fries for her, which felt like the responsible parent move. Then she woke up and caught us in the act. She zoomed right in on that cookie.

DNA does not lie, friends.

I laughed, and I let the moment be exactly what it was. Nothing about it needed fixing or explaining. It was a small, silly family moment, the kind you never plan and somehow remember for years.

About the Author | Day 310 of 365

I’m a soul-led coach, entrepreneur, mother, and recovering perfectionist, currently navigating healing, uncertainty, temporary chapters, motherhood, work, big transitions, grief, nervous system healing, overstimulation, emotional growth, and the ongoing lesson that life works a whole lot better when we stop trying to carry everything alone. Today that lesson looked like letting someone else make dinner on a grumpy day and laughing at how fast my daughter found that cookie.

Day 310 of 365. Still showing up. Still leaving room for dessert. 🐧