White trash fondue, yo
So this is a THIRD post about food in a row, which means the planet has officially been jolted off its axis. Or that these things come in threes and I’ll stop after this. Probably.
This weekend was stressful for a variety of reasons, and about halfway through yesterday as I was ranting to Otto that I AM ON ANTIDEPRESSANTS I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO FEEL LIKE THE MOTHERFUCKING SKY IS FALLING WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? he gently asked me if maybe, possibly, I had missed a dose? And I had. So it’s possible the sky doesn’t require expletives and maybe is just drooping a little, not crashing to the ground, and also the moral of the story is that right now I am Lexapro’s bitch. So! Lesson learned.
Anyway, in the midst of the stress and the weeping and the general angst, I not only had to figure out what we were having for dinner last night, but I realized we had to have fondue. read more…
This is preferable
What I really, really want to do right now is go on a long and indignant rant about a particular teacher at the middle school. BUT I AM A GROWN UP. So I merely complained about it on Facebook, instead, and here I am going to talk about oatmeal. As adults do.
See how MATURE and RESTRAINED I am? Don’t be envious, it took me YEARS to become this refined.
Instead I am going to tell you about how this week Hippie School had a Medieval Festival, and we parents were treated to various delights including a swordplay tournament, dance demonstrations, and various other medieval things. And of course, we were tasked with providing various medieval foods. I agreed to bring “porridge,” which meant I brought a huge crock pot filled with steel-cut oats. Which no one ate. It turns out that—while porridge is medieval—so is roast chicken and apple pie, so, um, yeah. read more…
Riveting soup update!
Because… you know… rivets… riveting…? Oh, nevermind.
The soup was delicious. And I made naan! Recipes after the jump, if you care. If you don’t care, enjoy your rivets. I Googled them just for you. read more…
Random things, only slightly germy
If I had some magical blog-glue I could probably cobble all of this together into a cohesive post, but I don’t. Oh well!
I came home from my travels and waited for the inevitable I-spent-hours-on-an-airborne-metal-tube-filled-with-other-people’s-germs illness to settle in, but then spent a couple of days patting myself on the back for remembering to take my Vitamin C, because I had FINALLY escaped that particular fate. Only, now there’s some weird bug going through Monkey’s school that Monkey clearly has and I spent a day going, “Do I have it? Am I just making myself sick psychosomatically? I’m fine. I’m sure I’m fine. Oh, wait. I’m not fine.” Said bug is a very mild stomach thing, hence the confusion. (Also: Not complaining. I would rather have an intermittent stomachache than, say, projectile spewage that is in no way ambiguous.) I should probably stop kissing my kids, huh?
In related news: Monkey actually NOTICED and SHARED that he wasn’t feeling well, so it’s been a carnival of “You say your stomach hurts? WOO HOO!” all up in here and at school. (That’s what happens when your kid usually just lays on the floor with a fever of 105 and insists he feels fine.) read more…
Little bit by bit
It’s Tuesday, so that means I’m over at Off Our Chests. Today’s topic: focusing on the little things, and how that helps me find my happy.
(I wrote it completely convinced that what I do is regular and ordinary, but then by the time I was done I began to wonder if I’m a freak and you’ll all think I’m weird. As if you didn’t already.)
In which we take NYC by dork-storm
Three days in New York City hardly seems like enough time to get into trouble, but I sure tried, because we all know that I leave the house so rarely, traveling to an actual city is a major pilgrimage for me. It requires THOUGHT and PREPARATION and MASCARA. All of these things are slightly foreign to me, but I soldier along as best I can.
So! When we last left off, my journey TO the city had been blessedly uneventful. My first meal there was delicious, and I skipped out on a late night of karaoke to attend to my beauty sleep. [Sidebar: I can’t hang this on my 40th birthday, but maybe around 38 or 39 it seemed like I suddenly had An Eye Issue, by which I mean I often wake up with dark bags underneath them which could easily accommodate a week’s worth of groceries, and which laugh at the various ever-increasingly-expensive Bags-Be-Gone gels and treatments I stupidly keep buying. I really don’t believe in plastic surgery but I’m beginning to understand the allure. I would like to have a bagectomy, please, but only if it doesn’t leave me looking perpetually surprised instead of just exhausted.]
I was off to a very responsible start. Of course that wasn’t terribly long-lived. read more…
Don’t they know I need blog fodder?
Yesterday I left my humble abode and pointed my car Atlanta-ward, on the first step of my journey to New York City. I felt confident—nay, positively smug—that my trip would bring me enough material for a blog post or three, because something wacky always happens when I travel. I would just wait for the magic to unfold.
Maybe there’d be a giant accident on the highway. Possibly I’d get stuck in Security or have to argue with the TSA about my hair products. Maybe my flight would be canceled! Alas, none of these things happened. I had an uneventful drive to the airport, parking was easy and the shuttle was waiting for me, I somehow got whisked into the “priority” security line (which took a record five minutes, tops), and my flight was on time.
So then I thought, “Man. What the heck am I going to blog about NOW?” read more…
Mixed messages!
Two items of mixed note for you this dreary, rainy Tuesday:
1) I got an email from the nice people at SHAPE magazine, letting me know that Woulda Coulda Shoulda was nominated in their first ever blog awards as one of the blogs that keep them happy and sane, and I should spread the word! And ask for votes! I’m losing in their poll (oh noes!) and I’m trying to care but failing. I mean, sure, um, yay? But this is some sort of healthy living thing, so I feel certain the nomination was a mistake in the first place. Also, I don’t do the beg for votes thing. I’m just letting you know. Now let’s all giggle and move on.
2) Today is National Coming Out Today, so I’m over at Off Our Chests admitting that I wasn’t always exactly the picture of sensitivity when it comes to this issue, possibly because I spent most of my teens as a real jerk.
Weekends were made for… um… what?
Every week I look forward to the weekend with ever-increasing fervor as the days march on. Because the week is so chaotic! And I’m so tired! And I cannot wait to sleep in and lie around the house and do nothing!
AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
You would think that after all these years of having even MORE stuff to do on the weekends, it would eventually occur to me that it’s a fallacy. Weekends are a change of scene, sure, but half the time I don’t get to sleep in, and even when I do, there’s still kids to shuffle around and projects around the house and all sorts of other things that Need Doing. And it’s not all that restful. SURPRISE!
That doesn’t necessarily mean it can’t be entertaining, though. read more…
Five good things on Friday
1) Chickadee is still doing well on her new, dye-free medication. Today was the first blood test and the tech was so good, she didn’t even feel the needle. (Okay, technically that’s two things. Deal with it.)
2) Today I sent out a panicked I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE THIS AUCTION SINGLEHANDEDLY email to the head of our PTA (translation: Please help!) and the next four businesses I approached for donations all happily ponied up. I keep reminding myself that it’s for the children. GIMME ALL YOUR GIFT CERTIFICATES, IMMA GO SELL THEM FOR PENCILS.
3) Monkey had a great day at school today and was invited to sleep over at Lemur’s tomorrow night. The boys don’t see each other nearly as much as they used to now that they’re at different schools, so YAY!
4) Every time I go to a conference there’s always a last-minute I NEED ITEM X wardrobe crisis (why is that?) and this time I managed to run out of time to shop online for a suitable pair of shoes. So I had to go to an actual STORE at the MALL and it was dreadful. Except for the part where I found some killer shoes, on sale, at the first store I went to. I am now ready to travel next week. Maybe. Did I mention they’re, um, about 5″ tall? Stay tuned for broken ankle stories.
5) The pool is closed, and no one fell in or even swore a lot while we put the cover on this year. Otto said to me, “We’re getting good at this.” I agreed, and mentioned that I sure like hanging around with him, so he went on to say, “We should get married or something. So we can hang out more often.” He is smart.