Sunday, March 13, 2011

This Weekend . . .

. . . was absolutely gorgeous.  The weather was mild, the sky was blue.  It would have been darn close to perfect . . . except for the horrid wretching sound coming from deep inside the bathroom. 

UGH!!  MOTH had the crud.   He was green on Saturday morning.  So I medicated him and sent him back to bed.  He hurled and curled and arfed and barfed.  And finally fell back to sleep.  I took the kids outside.  We played frisbee.  And then played on the tramoline.  While they jumped, I finished my angry raking from last week.  I picked up toys and poop. I raked wood chips and cleaned beds.  Then we blew bubbles.  And the kids got out sidewalk chalk.  They drew elephants and geckos.  They painted daisies and played hopscotch.  And I cleaned flower beds and played with the sprinklers.  I tacked landscape fabric down and cut dead overgrowth off.  It was glorious. 

When we stopped and looked about at each other, we were all dirty and gross.  We were covered in dust and chalk and dry grass.  But our cheeks had been kissed by the sun and we were appropriately tired and needing a refuel.  Ack.  It was 4 o'clock.  We hadn't stopped for lunch.  Or snacks.  

We ate dinner.  And tiptoed around the house while MOTH continued to sleep.  He woke up long enough to amble through the kitchen, suck on a few ice chips and eat two or three saltines.  Then, he went back to bed and the kids and I watched Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2 with big bowls of popcorn in our laps.  It was fabulous.   I put them all to bed and sunk into a comfy chair so that I could take my ipad for a test drive with what's sure to be my favorite new app:  People.  It was fabulous.  While I do adore the paper edition, this is going to be right fun, maties!

Daylight savings time.  Yea.  Or not. 

The adjustment always sucks, but I do love the light.    I awoke early.  What's new.  And petered around the house for a while.  Invoicing.  Dabbling.  Picking up.  Petting the dog.  Then watched Ben 10 with Little.  And made breakfast.  Then outside again.  MOTH was still green around 11, when he finally woke up.  He was out of bed long enough for me to fog the bed and surrounding areas along with anything else he may have touched, coughed on or come near with Lysol.  

I hosted a Pampered Chef party today.  I've never done that before.  It wasn't a raging success, but I do like the gadgets.  And I've learned something crucial.  I'm not as bad of a cook as I claim to be.  For many years, I've joked that if things can't be microwaved or toasted, I don't know what to do with them.  But, guess what?  That was all my lack of confidence talking.  I actually cook quite well.  And, I like to cook.  Most days, I really like to cook.  What I don't like is picky eaters with poor table manners.  I happen to have three.  Picky eaters, that is.  Their table manners are fine.    There are really a limited number of dishes that can fill a square for EVERY one of my family members, so most meals, someone is sacrificing.  Guess what?  Deal with it.  Until and unless someone else steps up to plan meals, shop for ingredients, thaw what needs thawing, marinade what's bland, tenderize what's tough and work like hell to put a protein, carb and veggie on the plate all at the same time . . . and warm . . . anyone who sits at my table can either say "thanks" or have cereal.  The end.    Plus, I think most women who cook or make an attempt to cook need other women to say, "Bloody Hell, Woman . . . good show!"   And even if the meal is wretched, overcooked, undercooked, horrid, they need folks around them saying, "Fine effort, Woman . . . Let me help you clean up!"   I'm planning to share a few recipes this week.    More on my brood of picky eaters this week, too.

The entire weekend was peppered with laundry.  Lots of laundry this weekend.  I'm down to putting away three stacks and swapping one more load.  But as soon as these kids get naked, I'll be a full load down again. 

I'm doing baths and the bedtime routine now, and settling in for some DVR time.  Oh, and finishing People on the iPad.   

While I'm stringing random thoughts together and rambling on . . . I have these things to add:

1.  I received the most hilarious voicemessage from Homestead this weekend.  Laugh out loud hilarious.  I love that woman.
2.  I've been working out the P90X . . and Jillian . . . and the Core Secrets guy.  I'm switching back and forth.  The Yoga on P90X is pretty stinkin' good.  And my legs are stronger than I gave myself credit.  Also, I can still do pull ups.  I'm so proud of myself!
3.  I'm grounding myself from Facebook again.   I'm totally annoyed with the hypocritcal general comments.  I'm certain I'm not supposed to take them personally, but I do.  So, I'm off Facebook until my attitude adjusts.   Or maybe longer.
4.  I'm counting down to our spring break get-away . . . . but am anxious about leaving our four-legged family members in someone else's keep.  What a catch-22. 
5.  I'm making a financial revelation . . . still formulating it in my head . . but, like the cooking revelation, I'm turning over a new leaf.  I'm tired of feeling guilty about having a financial compass that keeps the bills paid and the savings account stocked.  I'm tired of "friends" giving me the "wish I had" or the "must be nice" line.    I'm making a resolution about it this week.   More to follow.

More later . . . sounds like the children are wrestling upstairs.  Someone just made the whole house shudder, like they'd jumped off the top robe in a welter weight fight  . . . .  I heard one of the girls holler, "brazilian jujitsu!!"   I gotta go . . .

1 comment:

Homestead said...

What was hilarous about my voice mail? What did I say? I wasn't trying to be funny.