On Saturday, Otto needed to be on campus all day for a workshop, so the kids and I were left to fend for ourselves. No matter---we slept late, lolled around in our jammies, and about three hours later than we normally have breakfast, I made the kids some French toast out of homemade bread. ["Mom, this is the best French toast in the history of French toast," Monkey said, mouth crammed full and syrup dribbling from the corner of his lips. I know he's a suck-up, but it's still nice to hear.] After, I did the dishes while the kids played on the computer. I suggested we think about going on a...
Our weekend was blessedly boring. Thank goodness. Sometimes a person needs a little boring. This weekend was also when I realized that we'll be opening our pool again in just about a month. And once the pool is open, I will need to put on a bathing suit. This realization at first caused me to drown my sorrows in nachos and cookies, but then I pulled myself together and realized that it was simply some time to give myself some TOUGH LOVE and get to work. So: I'm back on the Wii Fit and I'm back to watching what I eat. I tell you this by way of explanation for the bitchiness that I'm sure is...
My children are darling little angels. Except when they aren't. And BELIEVE YOU ME, we have plenty of the "aren't" sorts of instances, 'round here. Though their seemingly limitless capacity for finding NEW and INTERESTING ways to make that little vein in my temple throb sometimes astounds me. So, you have to go read this post by Joshilyn about how her son Sam has had his first brush with inappropriate profanity. It's worth the read, trust me. Go! I'll wait. It was hilarious, right? And lo, how I giggled. Oh, how I snorted in smug and blissful assurance that SURELY my children were LIGHT...
I'm about to go wake up my kids. It's 11:00. It's 11:00 and my children are still asleep. My children were returned to me late last night and are still asleep at 11:00, which I am sure isn't anything I can draw any conclusions about, because it's probably just a coincidence, and also because when I don't have anything nice to say, I shouldn't say anything at all. Right? Right. Oh, look! A rainbow, over there. Shiny!
Yesterday we spent a fun-filled afternoon deep in family togetherness, by which I mean we went to Otto's office and parked the children with their Nintendo DSs while Otto and I did some work. The kids thought they'd died and gone to heaven when they complained of hunger mid-afternoon and we took them to the VENDING MACHINES and let them each pick out their own pouch of high fructose corn syrup-laden, salty fatty goodness. Finally, our relentless phone calls back to the house yielded a pick-up by our crappy answering machine, and lo, we knew power and order had been restored. We returned, and...
FYI, when a big piece of your tree falls over for no reason, it's a pretty sure bet that most of the rest of the tree will fall over if you get a really heavy snowfall. And of course THAT section of tree will fall RIGHT ACROSS THE DRIVEWAY. FYI, your husband will not find it humorous when you keep stomping around the house, occasionally gesturing to the tree which has formed a barricade to your escape, declaring, "APOCALYPSE. NOW!" FYI, when the power goes out for two hours in the afternoon and then comes back on, you would be very foolish to assume that everything is fine now. FYI, cooking...
It's been nearly four months since my daughter went vegetarian, and so far everyone is still alive. I would say our meat consumption as a family has gone down by about 50%, and my love of black beans has gone up about 500%. Chickadee appears to be having no trouble sticking to her new lifestyle, and I have only found Otto hiding behind the house gnawing on a T-bone once. (I'm kidding.) (It was a package of sausage.) Sometimes I make a "meat" entree for the rest of us and a "faux meat analog" for my daughter, of course, but a lot of the time I try to make a vegetarian meal that everyone will...
I'm completely out of sorts. It's not just that I got so sick, and then recovered just in time to catch some sort of sinus thing, instead, although I'm sure none of that helps. And it's not just that we've now been away for over a week, and I'm learning that in my old age a week is about my limit before I start itching for my own space. It's not even the various and sundry family drahhhhhmaaaahhhs going on, or the fact that I've seen my poor husband going through a level of stress this past week that I've never seen before, not even when his mom was in the ICU this summer and we didn't think...
Today I have been a mother for 3,898 days. Most of those days have been awesome. (Or repressed. Either way.) In 3,898 days I've not had a child break a bone. In 3,898 days I've not had to watch a child be wheeled off into surgery. In 3,898 days I have not stood, shaking with rage, over the remains of a treasured antique vase shattered by childish exuberance. (Dude. I have children. If I'd ever owned a treasured antique vase, it'd be long since given away, by now.) In 3,898 days I have made countless mistakes, and the children have vexed me in multitudes of ways, and things have been ruined,...
