What “Too Tired” Really Looks Like

 What “Too Tired” Really Looks Like

For me, too tired usually hits after work, right in the middle of the week. Wednesday is the danger zone.

I’m mentally tired.
Physically tired.
Decision-fatigued.
All of the above.

On those days, I don’t want to think. I don’t want to plan. I just want hot food on the table with the least amount of effort and dishes possible.

My Non-Negotiables on Exhausted Days

When my energy is low, my standards are simple:

• Hot food (always)

• Something filling

• Minimal dishes

• Leftovers for tomorrow

Kid-approved used to be a big concern, but that’s gotten easier over time. Now, flexibility matters more than perfection.

What I Actually Cook (No Shame Edition)

This is the real list — not the aspirational one.

1. Freezer Lasagna (My Lifeline)

When I make lasagna, I don’t make one.
I make four.

• One goes straight into the oven

• Three go into the freezer

On a tired night, I just toss one in the oven and walk away. It takes time to bake, yes — but my hands are free, my brain is off, and dinner is handled.

2. Soup + Bread = Dinner

I almost always have some kind of soup in the freezer.

On those nights:

• Soup goes in the microwave

• A baguette becomes garlic bread

• Dinner is ready in five minutes

No stress. No thinking.

3. Boiled Chicken That Becomes Multiple Meals

Lately, I rely a lot on boiled chicken — any cut.

I make it once and turn it into:

• 2 or 3 meals

• quick add-ons

• something I can stretch across the week

It’s not fancy. It’s functional.

4. Pasta + Jar Sauce + Meatballs

This is the easiest win in my house.

• Pasta (always in the pantry)

• Pasta sauce (always)

• Frozen meatballs in the oven

• Frozen veggies on the side

By the time the pasta is done, everything else is ready. Toss it together and move on.

The Shortcuts I Rely On (and Don’t Apologize For)

• Frozen meals I made on better days

• Canned staples (beans, beans, and more beans)

• Big batches of pasta sauce that double as:

  • lasagna base

  • pasta sauce

  • chili base

When things go on sale, that’s when I cook.
That’s when I batch.
That’s when I prep for my future exhausted self.

Some weeks, instead of meal planning, I just open the freezer and say: this is the plan.

What I’ve Let Go Of

I used to believe:

• every meal had to be homemade

• every dinner needed effort

• planning was non-negotiable

Not anymore.

Some weeks are freezer weeks.
Some weeks are survival weeks.

And sometimes, in the worst-case scenario, I order food. I don’t love it — mostly because I want to save money — but if it’s a heavy week and I’m done, that’s allowed too.

What I Want My Family to Learn

I want my kids to learn that:

• it’s okay to be tired

• it’s okay to rely on what you prepared earlier

• food doesn’t need to be perfect to be nourishing

What matters more is that:

• they’re fed

• they’re hugged

• they feel safe

That lesson is more important than any Instagram-worthy plate.

The Truth I Come Back to on These Nights

On nights like this, I remind myself:

It’s okay not to give 100%.
It’s okay to meet basic needs and stop there.

Feeding my family does not mean overextending myself.
If I've already done the work earlier —batch cooking, freezing, preparing—then using it is the plan.

This is what balance looks like for me now.

Some weeks, I’m organized.
Some weeks, I’m just surviving.

And that’s okay too.

Now the fun part:

My Go-To Base Sauce (That Becomes Lasagna, Pasta, or Chili)

This is the recipe I rely on when I know my energy will be low. I make it once, in a big pot, and it carries me through several meals. No strict measurements, no perfection — just a solid base that works.

Ingredients (Real-Life Quantities)

I aim for roughly equal parts meat and vegetables.

• 1 kg ground beef

• 1 large onion, very finely chopped

• 2–3 carrots, finely diced

• 2–3 celery stalks, finely diced

• Garlic, to taste

• Bell peppers (any color, optional, diced small)

Tomato base:

• 2 cans diced tomatoes (796 ml each)

• 1 jar pasta sauce (650 ml)

Seasoning:

• Salt and pepper

• Italian herbs (optional)

I dice the vegetables very small — not to hide them, but to keep the sauce smooth and kid-friendly.

How I Make the Base Sauce

1. In a large pot, brown the ground beef, breaking it up well so the pieces are very fine.

2. Add the onion and cook until soft.

3. Add carrots, celery, garlic, and bell peppers (if using).

4. Pour in both cans of diced tomatoes and the full jar of pasta sauce.

5. Season with salt, pepper, and Italian herbs.

6. Bring to a light boil, then reduce the heat and let it simmer.

Sometimes it simmers for an hour.
Sometimes it simmers for four.
Both work.

The longer it simmers, the better it tastes — but this sauce is very forgiving.

How I Store and Use It

Once it’s done, I let it cool slightly and divide it into four large freezer bags or containers.

From there:

• One portion becomes lasagna

• One portion becomes pasta sauce

• One portion stays frozen for a future week

• One portion usually turns into chili

This is the part that saves me on busy weeks.

Turning the Base Sauce Into Chili (My Exact Shortcut)

When I want chili, I don’t start from scratch.

I:

• Heat one frozen portion of the base sauce

• Add 5–6 different kinds of beans (whatever I have)

• Add Old El Paso Chili Seasoning Mix

I usually use:

• 1 packet for mild chili

• 2 packets for stronger flavor

Because the seasoning is already balanced, I don’t need to measure spices or overthink anything. I just taste and adjust.

Chili is done.

Why This Recipe Works for Me

• I buy the ingredients when they’re on sale

• I cook once and reuse it multiple times

• I save money, time, and mental energy

• I always have something ready when I’m too tired to plan

This recipe isn’t fancy.
It’s functional.

And on tired weeks, functional wins.

The Part No One Really Talks About

I think we talk a lot about feeding our families, but not enough about how much capacity it actually takes.

Cooking isn’t just ingredients and time — it’s decision-making, energy, and emotional presence. And when those are low, something has to give.

For me, this is what choosing balance looks like:

• cooking ahead when I can

• relying on the freezer when I need to

• letting “good enough” be enough

Some nights, dinner is something I planned.
Some nights, it’s something I thawed.
And some nights, it’s something I ordered — because that’s what the day allowed.

None of those choices makes me less capable.

They make me realistic.

If you’re in a season where meal planning feels heavy, where Wednesdays hit hard, or where you’re just trying to get everyone fed and into bed, you’re not doing it wrong.

You’re responding to your capacity.

And that matters more than any perfect plan ever could.

Thank you for reading.
— Fabi