Category Archives: vacation

Cliffhanger

I need to update you on a bunch of random stuff, including the casserole, Father’s Day, my financial, um, situation, the garden, and summer goals.

As it turns out, my casserole leftovers were quite yummy.  It tasted so much better than the night I cooked it.  In other words, it got better with age…

…just like Mike.  Happy Fathers Day!  We started the day with cards and pictures:

Dylan made this picture of a spider web for Mike  – yes, a spider web – at camp:

Then omelets with hot Italian pork sausage, baby spinach and mozzarella (Mike’s request), turkey bacon, Morning Star veggie sausage patties, and croissants (Dylan’s request):

Made by Yours Truly!  I may need some casserole practice, but I’m damn good with eggs.

Then Mike went straight to his computer to do computery things.  (For comparison’s sake, on Mother’s Day, I went to the mall and bought a pair of expensive shoes.)  About Mike’s role as a dad, I can say this:  He works his butt off to provide for his family (and he’s a gifted paper airplane maker to boot), and Dylan, Riley and I couldn’t be more fortunate and proud.

Later in the afternoon, I took the boys to Target to give Mike some space and to buy a zillion and one things, including Mike’s Father’s Day presents from the boys.  Apparently, Mike requested a really awesome Beyblade with sharp edges and a Star Wars Snowspeeder.

“Daddy’s gonna love this,” said Dylan.

I’m gonna love this,” said Riley.

(Editor’s note:  I wasn’t going to buy any toys – as if these kids need any more – but Daddy insisted.  He did.)

We ended the day at our favorite local bar & grill to celebrate with three generations of current and future dads:

Cheers to Grandpa Tom…and to Uncle Ken and Grandpa Barry who we’ll see in San Francisco in ONE MONTH!

On to less celebratory topics…

My spending:  I added up my household expenses for the week and, well, I don’t really want to talk about it.  Just know that I’ll be adding it all up on a weekly basis for a while.  Back in my Weight Watchers days, keeping the food journal was always the deciding factor in whether or not it was a successful week.  I’m hoping the same will be true here.

Now let’s talk about the garden, another slightly depressing topic.  On Saturday, we completed “Take Two” of our garden project.  Not “Phase Two” (the herb and vegetable garden); rather, “Take Two.”  Almost all of the flowers I planted a few weeks ago died.  Green Mama, I am not.  Mike planted new flowers yesterday afternoon without gloating too much (just a little bit) about how all of the flowers he originally planted survived and all of the flowers I originally planted died.  Boo.

Good luck, Take Two:

We (Mike) also planted a beautiful yellow Bromeliad plant Dylan’s teacher gave me at the end of the school year as a thank you for being the classroom’s healthy snack coordinator.

Supposedly, these plants are hard to kill.  We’ll see.  Mike planted it, so I’m hopeful.

A quick “Summer Goals” update:  I bought a “Captain Underpants” chapter book for Dylan.  After initially rejecting the book because it was “black and white on the inside” and asking me to bring it back to the store and buy a toy instead, which made me a very Angry Mama, Dylan let me read a few chapters before bed last night and He. Loved. It.  By the way, there’s a lot of poop, fart, and wedgie humor in this book, which is fun, but we made a deal to only do “poop, fart, and wedgie talk” at home when we’re reading the book (just like how we only pee on trees in our backyard).  We even did a pinky shake to ensure compliance.

Finally, here’s the “Who shot J.R.?” cliffhanger:  I have less than 72 hours to pack for a four-day family trip to Legoland.  Yikes!  Those of you who know my history of packing anxiety are well aware of what a frighteningly short period of time I’ve left myself to get my s–t together.  (New readers can catch up here:  “Everything AND The Kitchen Sink” and “Mastering the art of…”)  Will I get it done?  Without blowing my budget?  Or losing my mind?  Is this all just a dream?  Speaking of which, last night I dreamed I was pregnant again!

To be continued…

p.s. The pregnancy dream isn’t the cliffhanger.  That really was a dream.

Anyone watching the new “Dallas” on TNT? 

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Filed under anxiety, books, cooking, dads, Father's Day, food, garden, money, packing, shopping, toys, Uncategorized, vacation

Bon appetit!

I would have posted this sooner, but my computer access was limited on vacation.  Also, I’ve been recovering from several consecutive dinners at restaurants with my two adorable but occasionally horribly behaved children.

When you’re engaged, all you see are brides. When you’re pregnant, all you see are pregnant women (and babies and strollers and car seats and diaper bags…).  Ironically, when you have two kids who are despicably behaved in restaurants (i.e. they’re loud and whiny, irritate nearby diners, refuse to eat anything, won’t sit down in their chairs and won’t let you sit down in your chair for one freakin’ minute to take a bite of food or a precious gulp of wine), all you see are well-behaved children sitting nicely, talking quietly and eating chicken.

You resign yourself to the fact that you’ve somehow spoiled your children and failed miserably as a parent (or at least in the how-to-behave-in-a-restaurant department), and you won’t ever be able to take them out to eat unless they’re sedated or 30-something years old (perhaps with their own naughty little children!).

The day after a particularly disastrous outing, you climb the stairs of the poolside eatery to go to the bathroom and pass a table where a family with young children like yours is eating lunch.  (You have fed your kids poolside on this day to keep your head from exploding…again.) 

You can’t help but overhear the mother say, “Enough! There are other people here trying to eat,” and then, “Sit down!” and then, “Cut it out or we’re leaving.”  You smile briefly at the mother.  She probably feels embarrassed or thinks you feel bad for her, but actually, you want to wrap your arms around her in a big bear hug and say thank you.  

As you continue toward the bathroom, the tension between your shoulders releases a little bit and a smile spreads across your face when you realize – at least for a fleeting moment – that you are one of many mothers with small children who turn into baboons when they cross the threshold of any restaurant, bistro or café.  You also remember you have a babysitter coming that evening to watch the kids so you can have a peaceful dinner surrounded by adults.  Most likely, all you will notice at the restaurant that evening are ill-behaved children and mothers (and maybe some fathers) with exploding heads.  

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Filed under eating out, parenting, vacation