I going Nama’s for a week—a whole week! We’re going to play, play my toys, go swimming…
I can’t wait!
Oh, how I loathe summertime. I am just not cut out for warm weather. Today I had intended to beat the heat with an afternoon at a local water playground. It was not only so I could wear my new maternity bathing suit and even out those weird tan lines. It was also a bribe to get the girls (I don’t know why I still link to them every time—their blogs have not been updated since 1992!) to do their chores. All I wanted was the crap picked up off the living room floor so I could vacuum. Yes, I occasionally do that.
Instead, they chose to lay on the floor and whine about how it just isn’t fair. Why do I have to do all this? Um, maybe because you’re the ones who made the damn mess in the first place. Then my mom gets after me with her whole Cinderella-complex. I’m thinking it’s really not too much to expect a 7-year-old to clean her own messes. It’s not like I have her cooking my dinner or ironing my clothes. After 4 hours, the living room—which was really not that messy, by the way—doesn’t look much different then it did last night, except for the addition of breakfast crumbs.
I did manage to get them to pick up the eleventy hundred pairs of shoes they had strewn about the first floor on their way up for nap/quiet-time. Of course, that was met with huge sighs and groans about how it was just too hard to carry that many shoes at the same time. Then I mentioned that perhaps they had too many shoes to begin with and I should come visit the shoe rack with my donation box. Extra hands suddenly appeared and all shoes made it to the appropriate locations without any mishaps. It’s a miracle, I tell ya.
I feel sort of bad that I’m the one counting down the days until school starts. I’m sure that makes me a horrible mother in some eyes. I’m just so tired of breaking up fights, tearing down soda-bottle walls between lunch seats (at least they figured out how not to fight for one 20-minute period per day), and listening to whining about how unfair it is that they have to do something other than veg out in front of the television.
2 weeks. I can manage for 2 weeks. Besides, they are going to Camp Grandma’s for 1 of those weeks so I really only have 5 more days of this nonstop, in-your-face, what-can-we-do-now summer schedule.
- The trip to my parents’ house is much longer with a 1-hour stop at Old Navy.
- I should never be turned loose at Old Navy when they are having massive clearance sales.
- Indiana’s new interstate speed limit goes a long way towards making up lost time.
- Traveling during bedtime does not necessarily indicate that my girls will actually sleep in the car—even when naps are skipped to improve this possibility.
- Skipping naps? So not a good idea. Ever.
- Someone who loathes remixes should never listen to Club Mix Hour on the radio—unless, of course, the only other options are country music stations.
- I grew up in the one of the biggest redneck, hicktowns in America. This has nothing to do with my trip, other than I am reminded when I spend more than 5 minutes in my hometown.
Rachael and I met up with Ang for dinner Wednesday night. They graciously agreed to eat at Texas Roadhouse so baby could have her cheese fries (which, by the way, he finished off as soon as I got home!)
I never gave a lot of thought to meeting people you “met” online before except in making fun of my mother-in-law’s ex-husband #5. There is just something about blogs that is different. Sure, they are highly edited—few people reveal everything. But the snippets you do get are very real. I said last year when I met Rachael that she is exactly what I pictured. Ang, also, is exactly who I thought she would be. It didn’t at all feel like meeting someone new. It just felt like joining friends for dinner. Which, I guess, is exactly what it was.
Yesterday I managed to “sleep in” a bit. I got up at 8:15. This is the exact same time I always get up, but usually the last hour consists of my lying in bed with my eyes squeezed shut trying desperately to ignore the pitter patter of little feet as they fly between bedrooms. I get the occasional burst-in of “Are you awake yet?” (NO!) and “Whachu dooning?” (Mommy’s still sleeping!)
On this day, the girls didn’t wake up until just after 8. It is amazing how refreshing and rejuvenating 1 extra hour can truly be—especially coming on the tail end of a kid-free weekend. It didn’t stop me from being flat out exhausted by noon, but it was nice nonetheless. At least someone else now knows just how exhausting my everyday life is.
A few Lexie quotes from the girls’ return after their 2-day visit:
- I can’t believe how tired I am.
- Do you know how early they got up?
- I didn’t have a minute to myself all weekend.
- I don’t even think I showered while they were there.
Welcome to my life!
Conversation with my little sister, Lexie, who is taking my girls for the weekend—for the first time ever, I might add:
Me: You aren’t planning to take the girls to the dress shop with you, are you?
Her: Yes.
Me: Do you want me to come with you?
Her: No, why?
Me: Have you met my kids?
Her: It’s only going to take a minute.
Me: Yes, a minute—with you stuck in one place surround by pins while my girls run wild around a bridal shop.
Her: They won’t be running wild. They’ll be sitting still behaving.
Me: uncontrollable laughing
Her: What?!
Me: more giggling wildly Have you met my children?
Her: They’ll be good—that’s how they get to eat McDonald’s.
Me: Okay, maybe you’re learning this mom thing.
Her: I had a plan! Don’t make me look like an idiot.
I’m not much of a cook—wait, that’s not quite accurate. I cook all the time, but I’m not so big on “from scratch” cooking. My motto has always been “If you make it at home, it’s homemade.” My home-baked goodies are courtesy of Pillsbury and Betty Crocker. I do tend to use a lot of fresh meat and veggies in my meals, but I cook nothing elaborate. As a result, it is very easy to get stuck in a rut, cooking the same meals week after week. I’m not an adventurous eater, but I’ve been trying to branch out a bit.
Chelle posted an easy Egg Muffin Sandwich recipe the other day. She, of course, made her English muffins from scratch. When I decided to try it for Spencer—who stops at McD’s for an egg mcmuffin every single time we’re awake early enough—I bought a package instead. I had fully intended to use her recipe—really, I did—but the sale price on the packaged goods called out to me louder than the full price on the yeast I needed for the homemade variety. I think they turned out decent, though I don’t do eggs so I wouldn’t know personally. My big clue is he’s been taking them to work for breakfast every morning and not heading straight for the fridge when he gets home.
As for dinner, I’ve become rather addicted to All Recipes in the last few months. Did you know you could search solely in the “Quick and Easy” category? I picked up on that real fast. You can also search by ingredient if you have something you want to use up before it expires. Last night, I fixed Chicken and Dumplings. I’ve never made them before since dumplings require actual work so when I found this recipe that called for my favorite doughboy I just had to try it. Of course, I didn’t have any of the actual ingredients listed. I’m famous for substitutions (yet another great feature of AllRecipes.com).
Instead, I made a close facsimile with what I had on hand:
- 4 boneless chicken breasts
- 2 cans condensed cream of chicken soup
- salt and pepper (I had this one!)
- 1 11-oz package of refrigerated breadsticks
The breadsticks took longer to cook than the biscuits would have, but I liked the way it turned out. In fact, I’ll be having the last bowl for lunch. Poor Spencer is stuck with a turkey sandwich for about the gazillionth workday in a row. I’m working on a solution for that one, though with the fresh lettuce from our garden he doesn’t seem to mind too much.
I buy fresh fruit constantly. My girls love it, as does Spencer when he remembers to actually eat it. Next to diapers, it’s probably my biggest grocery expense. I have my limitations though—I still won’t buy it unless it’s on sale.
We will sometimes have apples and oranges, sometimes bananas and strawberries, but there is always fresh fruit on hand. This week I hit the motherload—apples, peaches, strawberries, grapes, and blueberries were all on sale. I stocked up, thinking I’d be tossing fruit by Saturday. It’s nearly gone and we’re not even halfway through the week. These people are insatiable!
I’m not complaining—well, too much anyway. At least it’s healthy and not bogged down with sugar. Sugar is something my kids just can’t handle. They don completely different personalities and become these monster children I can’t believe I spawned. Fruit is sweet—but not too sweet. It’s good for you—but not so good that it’s really a vegetable. And it’s something the whole family really enjoys.
Now if only they’d let me eat some now and then. That’s what I get for being so picky as to demand clean food—there’s probably an entire bowl of fruit salad littering my kitchen floor.