When my family’s apartment flooded, we — my husband, 10-month-old daughter, geriatric rabbit, and I — decamped to my parents’ house. As we waited for insurance companies to settle the bill, we divvied up dinner duty: My mom and I took turns during the week and on weekends, my husband would cook, or my dad would get takeout.
In some ways, it was easier. I cooked less frequently, if for more people, and that meant sometimes I could enjoy feeding little bub instead of trying to make dinner at the same time. Even still, it’s awkward cooking in someone else’s kitchen!
As a work-from-home mom, I’d already developed some strategies to get dinner on the table, and they came in very handy as we all learned to get along. Here’s how we made it work.
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