Cooking (if you can call it that!)

I was watching a cooking show on TV the other evening.  Let me re-phrase that:  a cooking show was on in the background while I scolded my 4 year old and 2.5 year old for the hundreth time and walked laps around the kitchen with my fussy 7 week old.  I'm not sure what the chef was preparing (I remember the word cutlets) but what struck me was the prep work.  There were diced tomatoes and some sort of fresh herbs (basil maybe?) and cubes of fresh mozzarella cheese.  The chopped garlic sizzled in the hot oil and my mouth began to water.  I used to LOVE cooking.  Even complicated meals that took hours to prepare.  I used to love the way the house smelled when I made things from scratch using only the finest and freshest ingredients.  I am snapped from my daydream by the sound of the smoke alarm going off (no joke).  The particles of pizza that had crusted to the bottom of the stove began to scorch with the rising temperature of the oven, only we weren't having pizza (that was last night's meal).  Tonight was ready-made Pot Roast.  The box boasts it can go from fridge to table after just 15 minutes of heating.  "DING!" goes the microwave as my steamer bag of vegetables is complete.  The finishing touch--left over salad from a few nights ago.  It is a little watery and some of the lettuce has begun to turn a slimy shade of dark green but a little extra dressing and no one will be the wiser.  Heck, I rarely even taste food these days as I shovel it into my mouth while begging the kids to eat, stop fighting, drink their milk, sit on their butts, use a papertowel instead of the sleeve of their shirts, hurry up because the baby is going to wake up soon (and then I will have to do the begging while I am eating AND trying to feed the baby!)  Maybe one day I will enjoy cooking again.  I just hope I'm still young enough to taste my food by then!