If I'm being honest, even though I prefer to be in charge of the grocery shopping I've never cooked seven days in a row in our entire relationship. I don't mind cooking at all and I'm not bad at it. It took me a long time to mesh my super plain and somewhat immature tastes with Mike's more complicated preferences. Mostly though I've taken huge chucks of time off from kitchen duty recovering from surgery. In the old house's kitchen had the sink and stove side by side. There was a dining room table taking up most of the room and the dishwasher was on the opposite side of the table from everything else.
I used to hate that kitchen, but the set-up actually worked for me. I'd fill pots with water and slide them on the counter over to the stove burner. I'd sit at the dining room table to prep food, etc. It was certainly not wheelchair friendly and if it got messy (which it often did) I couldn't even walk into it. In the new house our kitchen is still on the small side, but I can wheel in if I need to. We've been in our new house a year, but these pictures are all from when we moved in. Our dining room table is in an actual dining room now. The best part is that we easily doubled our counter space. It's a nice little kitchen even without a dishwasher.
My latest hiatus from kitchen duties was a combination of healing from the hip surgery, exhaustion from all the running around related to the wedding and physical therapy. Before the wedding I started getting to the grocery store again and occasionally actually cooking meals (as opposed to the leftover reheating and frozen pizzas I'd been doing). In the last few weeks I've been getting more serious. I was keeping the kitchen clean and organized, going to the store and cooking here and there.
Honestly, it's been hit or miss. The issues came when I really started cooking again. We've been in the house a year, but I can't remember how I did things before. It's just a little disorienting taking the newest incarnation of my body/mobility for a spin in the kitchen. I made a chicken recipe from a cookbook for the first time and had no problems related to getting around the kitchen. Then later I did spaghetti with meat sauce. Sounds simple enough, right? I broke out my new pans and got started. The first indication I was going to have a hard time came once I filled the pot with water to boil and then needed to turn around and place it on the stove. One crutch? Pushing off the counter? Hmmm...I pushed off the counter and then spun as much as my fused spin would allow. I got it onto the burner, but once it was time to drain the noodles I was annoyed. Now the pan was heavy and full of scalding water. There was no way to slide it along the counter from the stove and my feet (courtesy of my hips) are unreliable. I moved it to a cool burner and decided to wait for help (grumble, grumble).
I browned the meat in my great big new skillet. Once it was done I was again staring at a heavy hot pan and the sink/strainer in the sink behind me. At this point I turned of the burner and tried to reason this out. At this point the kids added a healthy element of distraction and before I realized what I was doing I'd returned to the kitchen and added the sauce to the un-drained meat. I was so irritated with myself. Mike drained the noodles shortly after. I tried to cook the grease off, but dinner was not spectacular.
It turns out it's a good day/bad day thing. The next dinner I made my cheeseburger pie the following week. I browned and drained the meat this time just fine. I just stepped toward the sink got my balance and then lifted the skillet swinging my body toward the sink. This time I got everything prepped and ready and in the oven without help. Then I went to lay down and wait for the timer to go off. In the end Mike took it out of then oven and served everything, but this time the meal was a big hit. I want to make dinner every night like a super mom, but even without recovering from hip surgery I'm tired by evening and it's hard to push trough making a good meal.