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Adventures in groceries

I could probably do the math on how many trips to the grocery store I’ve taken in my life, but math isn’t my thing and I don’t really feel like depressing myself right now, anyway. Groceries are one of my chores. If I need Otto to go, instead, I have to make a list, and I don’t do lists, so most of the time I just take care of it myself.

Of course, my version of “taking care of it” means that half the time I forget at least three items, and a good portion of the time I have done zero meal planning and have no idea what we need to get through the week.

Except milk. I always buy a couple of gallons of milk. That way, when the kids complain, “There’s nothing to eat!” I can lovingly respond with, “There’s a whole pantry full of food! Shut up and drink your milk!” (more…)

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Comments { 40 }

Too cool for (either) school

I continue to be a fount of all things smoooooth and awesome in my everyday life. As you would expect.

Did I mention that back when I thought I’d 1) have two kids at the same public middle school and 2) would probably be spending a lot of time sucking up to the administration for services for my kid, I agreed to be an officer in our PTA for this year? Oh yes I did. Because no matter how many times I go through the “volunteer… hate everyone… hate myself… remember that I hate people in general… wonder what made me think I had time to volunteer in the first place… pray for the merciful release of death” cycle, just like childbirth, the memory fades and I decide to do it again. Because I am stupid.

Now I’m That Parent who had a hissy fit and took her kid and went home, but is still nominally in charge of Many School Things Despite Being Slightly Bitter. What could possibly go wrong THERE? (more…)

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Comments { 32 }

The continuing extravaganza

Dude. Otto proves to be a hard act to follow. I feel like I have to have something extremely MEANINGFUL and HEARTFELT to share after he hijacked the blog yesterday and was all “My love will go oooooooooon!” while he stood at the prow of the HMS Woulda, hair streaming back in the wind. (Sometimes I get him confused with a movie I once saw, but I’m pretty sure that’s very close to what happened.) And now I should be able to show up in a corseted ball gown and tell you how turning 40 changed my life, and I had a deep personal revelation yesterday about the nature of the human experience.

The truth is that I’m still in my pajamas, and while I felt very loved yesterday, the deepest epiphany I had ran along the lines of, “Yum, cake is delicious.”

Sometimes shallow is deeper than me, it’s true. (more…)

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Comments { 33 }

Just a busy Sunday

So my to-do list for today is about six miles long; I got up early (which I almost never do on Sunday, because sleeping late is easily in my top 5 favorite activities) and did some work and picked up the house a little and went out for groceries and was back before I’m usually even awake on the weekend.

The plan was to have a couple of families from Monkey’s new school come over to swim, so everyone could meet everyone else and the boys could play and—hopefully—Monkey would not refuse to get in the car when carpool time came.

So I baked some muffins (when in doubt: bake) and made some iced tea and threw some lemonade pouches in the fridge for the kids. I put on my swimsuit and slathered Monkey in sunblock and truthfully, I was nervous, and also thinking about all of the other things I needed to be doing, or would have to rush to do after our guests left. (more…)

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Comments { 54 }

Five things that made me smile today

1) Watching Chickadee pack up for school and carefully loft the new pink flute case that Otto surprised her with “because I’m proud of how hard you’ve worked with the marching band.” I never knew how much I would enjoy watching two people trying to pretend they’re not totally smitten with one another.

2) Khan Academy, and the fact that Monkey cannot get enough of it.

3) Surrendering to unschooling, and realizing it’s going to be fine because Monkey disappeared for an hour and came back with the periodic table, several carefully-drawn atom diagrams, and a page of notes he took on alkali metals because “this is incredibly interesting.”

4) Spending an hour splashing in the pool with my kid this afternoon (“this totally counts as gym… or recess… or both!”), and watching the dog disappear and reappear with various leaves tangled in her ears.

5) The fact that while we frolicked inside our finally-done fence, Fence Guy remembered his offer and dropped off a couple of bottles of wine for us. Red for Otto and white for me. I grudgingly admit this was a very sweet gesture.

Hey, it’s almost like it’s Love Thursday, or something.

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Comments { 23 }

Pasta, anyone?

I do believe this summer will go down in family history as the Summer of the Tomatoes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that; I do love me some tomatoes. But thanks to my husband’s plant selection and what must be a particularly optimal growing season (can you believe I haven’t seen a single tomato horn worm this year?) (knocking on wood; crossing myself; throwing salt over my shoulder; spitting twice), my tomato cup runneth over.

And so the course of my days has changed.

The weird thing is, I really kind of like it.

I used to get up, have coffee while dealing with email, and get right to work. I would work all day (minus fifteen interruptions from Monkey wanting to know what I was doing now, and did I want to play Wii with him instead, and was it time to go swimming yet?) (answers: still working, yes but no thank you, and just a few more minutes) and try to knock off early to swim with the kids and otherwise actually be present with my family, and then eventually it would be evening and then bedtime. (more…)

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Comments { 44 }

I like food. The end.

I feel like my entire weekend was spent preparing or consuming food. And that’s okay—lord knows that I am a big fan of eating, and I’m willing to invest some time so as to make that experience happen—but it helped me to understand that I would’ve survived about a week as a pioneer before being all “Screw this, where’s McDonald’s?”

As you already know, my garden is producing tomatoes large enough to take over Atlanta, and a reasonable person would merely concentrate on those, as there’s certainly enough of them to keep me busy. BUT NO. I am not reasonable. If some is good, MORE IS BETTER, and so with five pounds (so far!) of ripe tomatoes pondering the takeover of my kitchen, I demanded that Otto take me to the Farmer’s Market on Saturday.

We went early, before the kids were up. Without any “this is boring”s and “he’s touching me!”s to distract me, I may have gone a little overboard. (more…)

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Comments { 37 }

Otto and Goliath

Longtime readers know that one of the joys of summer, for me, is my little backyard garden. What started years ago with a few containers on the deck has steadily expanded into a series of boxes where I spend half my July wrestling with vines that need to go UP THE TRELLIS, dammit, UP.

Some plants I grow from seeds. Zucchini, for example, is perfectly happy when you stick a seed in the soil and then completely ignore it for the next two months. Provided you do anything less traumatic than run it over with a car, zucchini will happily flourish until you have zucchini muffins coming out of your ears. (Or until you make zucchini fritters for dinner, like I did last night. Monkey’s comment: “YUM! These taste just like FRENCH FRIES!” It only took two cups of oil to find a way he likes zucchini, folks.)

Other plants, I go to the garden store and buy little ones, either because growing from seed is complicated or because I’m lazy. This year Otto was headed out to run some errands around Easter and I said, “Can you pick up a few tomato plants? I forgot to start seeds so we may as well.”

“Sure,” he said, because he is swell. “What kind do you want?” (more…)

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Comments { 47 }

Catch us on “Top Chef: Whatever”

I always get a little twitchy when someone asks me for a recipe. I am not one of those “This is my secret recipe and if I tell you then I have to kill you” sorts, not by a long shot. I’m the person who brings a dish somewhere and if someone says, “Oh my gosh, this is amazing!” I’ve barely said “thank you” before I’m telling them how easy it is to make, let me tell you. So it’s not a secrecy thing.

It’s a… slob thing. I am not an exacting person when it comes to cooking. I love to cook; I love to eat; I can follow a recipe with no problem. But the reality is that once I’ve made something two or three times, I’ve internalized the nuts and bolts and then I cook it by feel. So when you wanted the veggie chili recipe, yesterday, it struck terror into my heart. Because… I’m pretty sure I had a recipe for it? Once upon a time? But now it’s just… whatever. I just make it. And it’s good.

But because I love you, I will attempt to give you the recipe, and also explain what food looks like around here. IT WILL BE THRILLING. (more…)

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Comments { 28 }

Easter Day, 2011

6:00 a.m. Wake up. Look at clock. Remember it’s Sunday. Go back to sleep.
7:30 a.m. Wake up when Otto gets up. Go back to sleep.
8:30 a.m. Hear Otto making coffee. Get up.
8:35 a.m. COOOOOOOFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
8:45 a.m. Put turkey breast in crock pot.
8:50 a.m. Field Chickadee’s inquisition; she is certainly not eating any of that GROSS ANIMAL in the crock for dinner, so what is she having? Is that cranberry sauce on the turkey? Did I save her any? Because she is NOT EATING CRANBERRY SAUCE THAT TOUCHED TURKEY, MOM.
8:55 a.m. I give up my sanguine replies about how I have unfailingly accommodated her choice to avoid meat for the last two and a half years and instead suggest that with just a little bit of work, she could be in full-blown eating disorder status and should let me know if I can slice her some celery to gnaw on.
9:00 a.m. Monkey—who has been vibrating with excitement for the last hour—asks if maybe I think they should start, you know, looking for something? Maybe? Just in case there’s something around?
9:01 a.m. I do my best to look contrite and say, “Oh my gosh, you guys, I totally forgot to put your baskets out last night! I guess you can take a look, anyway, but… I’m sorry.” (more…)

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Comments { 32 }
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