“This is the best day ever!”

My kids have taken to shouting that hyperbolic statement nearly any time they do something they enjoy. Eating ice cream, riding bikes, going to a friend’s house—these all apparently deserve the title of “best day ever.”

The pendulum swings just as far in the other direction, of course. There are about a hundred activities that can cause them to declare any given day the worst ever—eating cooked carrots, having to clean their rooms, not being allowed to play with the hose at 8am when it’s 50 degrees outside, wearing shoes that fit. Who knew that last one could so easily result in a three-year-old naming an otherwise normal Thursday “the worst day ever.”

In these weeks in between feasts, I’m trying to keep it simple. We’re eating leftovers, soups I made a while back and stored in the freezer, and sandwiches. It’s so easy for me to go overboard in the kitchen during the holidays, and that only adds to the stress and overwhelm this time of year. But I’m learning to be realistic, simplify, and still eat food that’s really good.