Wednesday, February 10, 2016

The Fact of the Matter

 At Cabelas. On date night. Buying ammo. Romance.

The fact of the matter is this: I don't write enough. Sure, I write a lot for work. But I don't write enough for ME. I love writing. It's how I process things in my life. Maybe I haven't been writing enough because of my work. I get all "written out". I need to save some of that for myself.

The house is somewhat quiet. I can hear the boys chattering in their bedroom across the hall. Jack is notoriously horrible about going to bed. It's always one thing or another that he forgets. It really drives me batty. Besides their chatter, I can hear the soft lull of Violet's white noise machine in her bedroom. I just went and checked on her and she was fast asleep. It's hard work playing dolls, going to kindergarten and watching "Snow White" all day. I also can hear the sound of Ethan playing his baseball video game downstairs. Baseball season is two months away, which means I will be hearing a lot more than just video games.

Last week, I realized I haven't been in the kitchen enough. Creating new recipes and making old favorites is something I have to do. It makes me sane. It calms me down and centers me. So this week is a big food week. I am making a meal for a family with a new set of twins and I made lunches for a friend who has a busy job that keeps her from planning balanced meals. I also made flatbread pizzas for dinner for the family with fun, inventive toppings like shaved asparagus, garlic cream sauce and bresaola. I have to make time to make fun food or I go nuts.

 The naan bread at Costco. Get some. Use them for pizzas. They are a win.

Today I found myself turning into my mother. After discovering that Jack had gone to school without cleaning up a big cereal spill on the couch, I put on a bra and brushed my teeth and headed for the school. I pulled him out of class to come home and clean it up. It was almost an out-of-body experience as I realized this is exactly what my mother would have done. I called my mom and we laughed about how having bigger kids is a constant game of strategy. Ethan and I seem to always be plotting or planning against Jack. We are always anticipating his next move and how we will counter it. Little kids=physically exhausting. Big kids=mentally exhausting.

Valentines is this weekend and I have a giant bag of candy hidden in my closet. I am going to make cute little treat bags for my three little Valentines and then Ethan will write their love notes. It's his turn this year. For Ethan, I keep it really classy and give him his favorite candy, like Chick-O-Sticks and Neccos. His card this year says "I love you more than naps". And if that is the case, then it must be true love.

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