The responsibility of cooking dinner is mostly mine these days. Henry cooks on Sundays, but every other day I'm the one wearing the apron. There are two main reasons for this seemingly uneven divide of kitchen duty: (1) I have more free time in the afternoons since he doesn't get off work until 5:30-6 and (2) I like to cook. In return, he cleans up (most) every night.
This agreement came about after several discussions of what is equitable given our current situation (him working full-time, me volunteering with side jobs here and there). Since I am the one at home most afternoons, it makes sense that the bulk of the household responsibilities falls to me. In the same breath, it's hard for me to swallow such a "traditional" division of labor where I do all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, etc, while he "brings home the bacon". I know it is the logical outcome of our circumstances, but that does not make it easy for me to accept. I have spent my life working to become an independent, well-educated woman who is in an equal partnership with her spouse. And I am. But when what's equitable looks like a throw-back to the 1950s from the outside? It's a challenge.
All of that aside, getting to cook six nights of the week is something I (generally) enjoy. Of course there are the nights where putting together a meal feels like a task equivalent to scaling Mount Everest, but luckily those nights are (relatively) infrequent. I believe that cooking nutritious meals form whole, organic ingredients is potentially the most important thing I do for my family. What we put into our bodies has such a huge impact on our health (both mental and physical), our happiness, and our outlook on life. My values and ideas surrounding food are continually evolving, but I do know that eating quality meals at home together ensures our well-being in the broadest sense of the word. So even though I occasionally feel like Donna Reed (minus the jello molds and pearls), I just keep cookin'.