Chick Fil-A's peach milkshakes -- like crack cocaine, only more addictive. Even if you've only had it once, you're still hit with occasional uncontrollable cravings. Thanks, brother-in-law!!!
AAAK!! I just googled the peach milkshake, and it was a limited-time offer!! I'm doomed to a life of no peach milkshakes! It's like being in detox. Fortunately, there's still this. I'm never going to shake this last 20 pounds unless I get some sleep, am I?
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Summer... Yeah...
Well, summer's here. The A/C is on. The pools are open. The swimsuits are in place. Popsicles are in the freezer. I'm whining to get the windows tinted in my car again. But this time, I'm asking for it for my Mother's Day and maybe Teacher's Day. (My school doesn't have much of an end-of-school carnival, but the teacher does get a small token of the students' and school board's gratitude.)
It's not really summer, of course. Not high summer. We're in normal summer now, until maybe mid-June. Then something shifts in the cosmos, and it becomes unreasonably, brutally, stupidly, and insanely hot. Too hot to grill outdoors before sunset. Too hot to go to the beach during the day. Just in time for everyone from Wisconsin to visit Disney. Luckily, Disney air conditions the outdoors, so that's okay.
Ah, summer. (Can I move to Wisconsin now?)
It's not really summer, of course. Not high summer. We're in normal summer now, until maybe mid-June. Then something shifts in the cosmos, and it becomes unreasonably, brutally, stupidly, and insanely hot. Too hot to grill outdoors before sunset. Too hot to go to the beach during the day. Just in time for everyone from Wisconsin to visit Disney. Luckily, Disney air conditions the outdoors, so that's okay.
Ah, summer. (Can I move to Wisconsin now?)
Friday, April 8, 2011
The Martyr Diaries
It's not a full moon, is it? ;)
Seriously, the boy woke me at 1am to ask where his yellow colored pencil was. I told him to look in the colored pencil bin on the school table. He says, "Hey! Good idea! Thanks!!" At 2am, the girl woke me to watch her close her window and then then tuck her in again, complete with the entire litany and ritual. There wasn't any genuflecting or incense involved, but close.
Tired today. But that's nothing new.
The kids have taken to covering the carpet with trash and crumbs and then complaining when I vacuum. They're five feet, 90 pounds, and eleven years old. But I just don't have the will to make them vacuum. My husband thinks I'm acting like a martyr. Yeah, ya think?
Martyr (Noun) -- one who suffers for a cause. YA THINK?!!
Seriously, the boy woke me at 1am to ask where his yellow colored pencil was. I told him to look in the colored pencil bin on the school table. He says, "Hey! Good idea! Thanks!!" At 2am, the girl woke me to watch her close her window and then then tuck her in again, complete with the entire litany and ritual. There wasn't any genuflecting or incense involved, but close.
Tired today. But that's nothing new.
The kids have taken to covering the carpet with trash and crumbs and then complaining when I vacuum. They're five feet, 90 pounds, and eleven years old. But I just don't have the will to make them vacuum. My husband thinks I'm acting like a martyr. Yeah, ya think?
Martyr (Noun) -- one who suffers for a cause. YA THINK?!!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
STFU
Want to know how many time a person can scream "Shut the feck up!" inside their head without screaming it out loud? You're going to have to trust me when I say, "A lot." Apparently, it's the wind's fault for turning the page back on The Boy's math book, causing him to work the wrong threee problems. Then it was my fault for grading what he did right and erasing the wrong problems so he could fix it. I'm a bully. And I have the cartoon to prove it. (The Boy is such an artiste.) He whines to me, "It's your fault. If you didn't make me angry, I would have finished my math by now." He finished one task today: a five sentence outline, fifteen words. I'm so unfair to him. He's giving up... STFU, boy!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Oh. No more cream sauce for me...
Ooh. Looks like we're going back on the meat-and-veggies again.
Heh, heh. Just for curiousity's sake, I stepped on the scale this morning. Wuh-oh. Apparently, I'm not built for cream sauce anymore. Or carbs. Or anything but meat and veggies. *sigh* I like cream sauce on pasta, but it turns out that I'm allergic to it -- it make me break out in lumps. ;)
In other news, I have new blueberry bushes to plant. Which means I need to fix the rain barrel, which means that I have to fix the gutter, which means I have to get out the step ladder and power drill. Instead, I spent the afternoon with the RoundUp Extended. That stuff's scary -- no planting anything for four months after spraying. eek.
My dad came for hamburgers on the grill as the weather continues to be perfect. The humidity's coming up, though. Tuesday morning's going to be a low of 67 degrees. We're getting another dry shot and severe weather Tuesday afternoon, but summer is definitely coming. boo! Boo!!
Heh, heh. Just for curiousity's sake, I stepped on the scale this morning. Wuh-oh. Apparently, I'm not built for cream sauce anymore. Or carbs. Or anything but meat and veggies. *sigh* I like cream sauce on pasta, but it turns out that I'm allergic to it -- it make me break out in lumps. ;)
In other news, I have new blueberry bushes to plant. Which means I need to fix the rain barrel, which means that I have to fix the gutter, which means I have to get out the step ladder and power drill. Instead, I spent the afternoon with the RoundUp Extended. That stuff's scary -- no planting anything for four months after spraying. eek.
My dad came for hamburgers on the grill as the weather continues to be perfect. The humidity's coming up, though. Tuesday morning's going to be a low of 67 degrees. We're getting another dry shot and severe weather Tuesday afternoon, but summer is definitely coming. boo! Boo!!
Saturday, April 2, 2011
and pass the Alfredo sauce...
Cooking! Feh!
We've hit a tired stretch when it comes to dinner. Usually, the kids want three piles of food on their plates -- cow/pig/chicken, noodles/rice/potatoes, and a vegetable. This went on for years, but now The Boy is tired of it. He doesn't want to try anything new -- he's just tired of the old food. But if I have to eat one more piece of baked chicken with brown rice, I'm going to scream.
I've tried dressing up what we usually eat -- sauteed veggies in the rice, cheese sauce for the veggies, barbecue sauce on the chicken -- but it only makes it too spicy for The Boy, too gooey for The Husband, and too weird for The Girl.
I've been tired of the meat-n-potatoes diet for years, so lately I've been experimenting. I made crock pot pulled pork, pasta primavera with cream sauce, pizza pasta bake. Do they like it? No. If it's the least bit bland, The Girl won't eat it. If it's the least bit spicy, The Boy won't eat it. And after 20 years of marriage, I find out that The Husband doesn't like creamy sauces. I actually threatened them with hot dogs, and they all said, "Yay!!"
But the real kicker? The coup de grace? The real kick in the panties? Apparently, The Husband does not feel that it is his responsibility to clean up the kitchen when dinner is an experiment. Apparently, "fun" cooking must be washed by the person having the "fun".
When my family complains about the boring/weird food, I always ask, "What would you rather eat? What do you like to eat?" And you know what they say -- "I don't know." Tomorrow, "I don't know" may turn out to be scalloped potatoes with ham in the crock pot. Feck 'em. I'm eating cream sauce.
We've hit a tired stretch when it comes to dinner. Usually, the kids want three piles of food on their plates -- cow/pig/chicken, noodles/rice/potatoes, and a vegetable. This went on for years, but now The Boy is tired of it. He doesn't want to try anything new -- he's just tired of the old food. But if I have to eat one more piece of baked chicken with brown rice, I'm going to scream.
I've tried dressing up what we usually eat -- sauteed veggies in the rice, cheese sauce for the veggies, barbecue sauce on the chicken -- but it only makes it too spicy for The Boy, too gooey for The Husband, and too weird for The Girl.
I've been tired of the meat-n-potatoes diet for years, so lately I've been experimenting. I made crock pot pulled pork, pasta primavera with cream sauce, pizza pasta bake. Do they like it? No. If it's the least bit bland, The Girl won't eat it. If it's the least bit spicy, The Boy won't eat it. And after 20 years of marriage, I find out that The Husband doesn't like creamy sauces. I actually threatened them with hot dogs, and they all said, "Yay!!"
But the real kicker? The coup de grace? The real kick in the panties? Apparently, The Husband does not feel that it is his responsibility to clean up the kitchen when dinner is an experiment. Apparently, "fun" cooking must be washed by the person having the "fun".
When my family complains about the boring/weird food, I always ask, "What would you rather eat? What do you like to eat?" And you know what they say -- "I don't know." Tomorrow, "I don't know" may turn out to be scalloped potatoes with ham in the crock pot. Feck 'em. I'm eating cream sauce.
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