Amazed

Holy Cow!  First off, let me say I’m amazed.  Two really awesome Facebook groups linked to posts of mine and, well, my Facebook page more than DOUBLED our followers/”likers” in less than 24 hours!  I’m still stunned.  J

I’m also amazed, in a different way, at how fast this summer is going by.  In a little over a week, DD#1 will be back home from her 3 weeks in FL with her bio-dad.  My other 3 DD’s are all back from their week at summer camp.  Oh, and DD#1 forwarded me an email discussing her college orientation (one month from yesterday.)  How did this happen?  Weren’t we just scheduling DD#1’s high school senior portraits?  And now we’re packing her up to move… and scheduling DD#2’s high school senior portrait session and finding time to buy all the back to school stuff needed before school starts again on August 21^st.  Is there a “slow motion” button I can hit, so these next 4 weeks slow down to an absolute crawl?  I want more time with my kids.  We haven’t even been to the beach (granted, it’s been raining and/or in the low 70s for an obscene amount of time this summer) or had one of our annual outdoor picnics yet this year.  DD’s #3 & 4 haven’t had a lemonade stand yet. 

I’m also amazed (in a bad way) at how much I’ve spent on my car this summer.  Without going into too much detail, what started off as needing new wheel bearings lead to needing a new (rebuilt) transmission which lead to needing a new (rebuilt) engine.  I’m so sick of feeling like we’re hemorrhaging cash. 

And now I’m amazed that tonight is the first night of DD#3’s cheerleading practices for the fall season.  Whoa!  There go my weeknights for the next month and my weekends until October.  I love that she loves doing it, and that DD#2 is her squad’s junior advisor, but it does take up a bit of time and it’s yet another reminder that school is starting in 3 weeks… and DD#1 moves away to college in 4 weeks… and that I’m getting older.

*sigh*

I should be happy, as I LOVE early fall.  It’s my favorite time of the year.  Seriously.  I love when it starts getting chilly enough to wear a sweater and I can pull tights and my favorite boots out of the closet.  When I can make a huge batch of beef stew or chili and it won’t cause the A/C to kick on in the house.  When I don’t have to shave my legs every damned day.  (Hey, just being honest!) 

Oh well, life goes on.  Gotta learn to relax and enjoy.  And now I’m off to cheerleading.  Catch you all later!

Too Much to Do and Not Enough Time

So yesterday DD#1 left for 3 weeks in Florida with her father… and even with 3 other kids still running around, the house felt empty.  What’s it going to be like when she moves on campus next month? 

Sunday, the remaining 3 DD’s head off to a week of sleep-away summer camp.   This will be the first time in 18 YEARS that I will be child-free for more than 48 hours (excluding my hospitalization 7 years ago but I don’t think that really counts.)  You’d think I’d be planning on a week of vacation days, spa days, and leisurely dinners out with the DH.  And you would be wrong.  I’m working 3 days (DH is working 4) and I plan on using my 2 days off to:

·         Clean the basement pantry (we have a ranch-style house and because of lack of space in the kitchen, I’ve carved a part of our basement into a second pantry)

·         Clean the lower-level family room/den (time to dispose of all those toys that no one has touched in 4 years but still refuse to dispose of on their own because “I might want it later!”)

·         Donate blood (seriously, folks, it takes half an hour and is so important – check out www.redcross.org)

Saturday will be a hellish nightmare of trips to Walmart, Target, the sporting goods store, etc., so I can finalize the stuff the kids need for camp.  Oh, and I need to find time to hit the mall because Sunday is DD#3’s 10^th birthday.  Naturally I haven’t started shopping yet (don’t judge!)  She got one of her presents earlier this week, when DH & I took her and her younger sister to see The Jonas Brothers in concert.  Nothing like seeing an aging boy band with an almost 10 year old and a 7 year old, I’ll tell you that.  Hopefully I can see another concert soon, so if I’m ever asked “What’s the last concert you saw?”, I can answer without feeling too embarrassed. 

Okay, let’s get back to today though.  I’m at work, trying to enjoy the last little bits of my lunch break, and an email comes across that there’s a going-away party for a departing employee in the canteen as we speak.  And it wouldn’t be my workplace if there wasn’t some sort of fattening goodies.  Today it’s punch and cake.  Enough with the food, coworkers!!!  Or maybe someone can help me find some will power, so I can resist the siren call of buttercream icing.  Seriously, the last thing I need is a huge piece of cake on top of the BLT I had for lunch and the pizza we're having for dinner.  Uggh!

Bye for now!

Here Comes the Rain Again

It’s almost the middle of July, right?  Because I’m in Northeast Ohio and it hasn’t been warmer than mid 80s in a few weeks.  Right now, we’re getting hit with a thunderstorm and the temperature dropped into the 70s.  We've usually had some 90+ degree days by now but not this year.  I know I shouldn't be complaining but it's just weird.  In fact, the weather’s been all wonky this year, though.  When our old hometown of Greenwich, CT gets more snow than we do here, in the Snow Belt of the United States, you know something's wrong.

Today was the first day back at work after a weird work week (we had Thursday off for the holiday but had to work on Friday) and, naturally, the day took forever.  Between the email server screwing up for a good part of the morning (and again after lunch, but just for me because I'm special - no comments) and having to start the leg work for our FY13 audit (we haven't even closed last fiscal year yet but the auditors want us to start sending out bank confirmation already), it definitely wasn't my day.  The only thing that really worked was I managed to sneak in a 1 mile walk during lunch, and that was really nice.

Then I get home and what do I hear?  DD#3 asking for a human-eating lizard and DD#4 asking why we don’t own a thundershirt.  No, we don’t have a dog and, thus, have no need for a thundershirt.  Apparently she thought it might help her with thunderstorms.  I know she’s 7 and that she’s creative (putting it nicely) but DD#4 really takes the “I’m almost as weird as my Daddy” thing too far.  (Those who know DH in real life can vouch that DD#4's comments sound like something her father would say.)  At least she’s now arguing with DH about watching Doctor Who on his computer because the TV keeps going out because of the storm.  (Why yes, we do have DirecTV?  How could you possibly have guessed?  *snert*)  Listening to him repeat over and over that the storm has no effect on Netflix and that streams to the television via our Wii system is definitely amusing.  Nice that someone else in the house has to deal with the typical barrage of "Why?  Why?  Why?" questions for tonight. 

Wisely though, DD's #1 & 2 have been avoiding me.  Maybe they're afraid of getting in trouble for not doing chores or because they overheard the younger 2's conversations with me and figured I need a break.  Either way, I'm a little grateful because it allows me some "alone" time.  With 4 kids living at home, that doesn't happen all that often but when it does, it's appreciated.

I spent yesterday afternoon cooking meals for use during the week (breaded pork chops – which were last night’s dinner, barbecued chicken, and Yankee pot roast) and what does everyone want for dinner tonight?  Yep, you guessed it.  Hot dogs and baked French fries.  WTF?  DH was off work today (as he worked yesterday) so he could have cooked something or just reheated one of my pre-cooked frozen dinner options.  But, no, everyone wanted my lazy “OMG I totally forgot about getting dinner ready!” fallback dinner.  *grrr*  Although it was nice that when my ex-husband called, while I was in the middle of getting dinner prepared, that I had the handy "I'm in the middle of making dinner and can't talk" line available for use.  I really wish he'd remember that we're divorced, we're not friends (I tolerate him for the sake of our daughters), and I don't really care that he's nowhere near the area in Florida that's under hurricane warning.  It's like he forgets that we've been divorced 15 years.  I only have 1 1/2 years left of being nice to him, because that's when DD#2 turns 18.  I'll be civil to him for the girls' sake but I definitely don't want to be friends with him.  (Those who know the circumstances of our divorce definitely know why I don't want to deal with him any more than necessary.  Suffice to say, he's not a pleasant person.)

OMG, DD#2 just came out and told me that her conversation with my ex-MIL involved her weight.  DD#2 put on a few pounds this year but is definitely not obese by any stretch of the imagination.  Apparently her grandmother wanted to know how the dieting is going (note:  she isn't on one) and if she lost any of that weight she put on.  Seriously?!  Because she's no longer a size 3, you're going to start in on her?  Is it because DD#1 lost a full dress size since graduation, thanks to no longer eating the over-processed crap sold in the school cafeteria and actually exercising in the mornings?  One of these days, my ex-MIL is going to understand that I've always struggled with my weight (slow metabolism) and my girls seem to have the same problem.  They're not skinny twigs like their cousins.  My girls have to keep active to keep their weight at healthy levels and no matter how much they work out, they're never going to be a size 0.  (I can't believe I'm going to have to explain to her, yet again, that it's okay that my daughters wear a size 3 or 5.  As long as their doctor says they're healthy and they stay active, I'm not going to jump on them for gaining 10 lbs. or throw a party for them losing 10.)

Tonight I should be dying my hair (thanks again to my father for passing on the “graying WAY too early in life” gene) and maybe painting my nails.  Instead I’ll end up doing the chores that the kids blew off today because, silly me, I didn’t write a list of what I wanted them to do.  You’d think they would be capable of looking around, see stuff to be done, and (oh I don’t know) just do it.  Or that DH could remind them during the day.  But no, if it’s not written down by Mom on the Boogie Board (love that thing!) on the refrigerator, apparently it doesn’t get done.  Then, again, there have been MANY days where I’ve written stuff down and they still didn’t do it.  *double grrr*  I should be happy that at least the dishes were washed, even though they weren't put away.

Well, since I’m the one doing chores tonight, I guess I’ll pop on some Foo Fighters and grab the broom.   ¯¯One of these days... the ground will drop out… from... beneath your feet¯¯

See you later.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall. I Am My Mother After All.

It’s official.  I have become my mother.  I’m not sure how (or even when) it happened but it happened.  I’ve turned into my mother.  Now don’t get me wrong.  My mother was an awesome, amazing woman who lived through so much that I sometimes shake my head that she even lived as long as she did (my mother passed in 2001 at the age of 68.)  However, my mother was your typical Irish/Italian woman.  She was the one who yelled if you didn’t eat enough.  She yelled if you ate too much.  She complained if I had my hair in my face but, when I would cut it short, she would say “It looked better longer.”  Always with the contradictions.  The main thing about my mother, though, was food.  She was ALWAYS cooking.  Granted, I come from a blended family and am the youngest of 8 children, so there was a time where it would be only natural for my mother to be cooking all day.  But, even after everyone moved out, she still did so.  And still cooked in the same, absurd amount (enough to feed a small army.)

Yesterday was Independence Day here in the US and where was I?  In the kitchen, at the stove, just like her.  And that was where I spent most of my day, just like her.  Baking two batches of buttermilk biscuits (the first batch didn’t rise enough and definitely weren’t flaky enough for me to be happy, so I had to make a second batch), making potato salad, baked beans (well, doctoring up a can of Bush’s baked beans but I like theirs and, well, I didn’t feel like making them from scratch), corn on the cob, corn/pepper relish (which I made and canned last weekend) and fried chicken.  Keep in mind, I’m using a modified version of my mother’s recipe, which is a "little piece of heaven" on a plate.  Actually, it’s more like a "little heart attack waiting to happen" on a plate.  (The stuff is fried in lard.)  And, by the time it was done, I made enough food to feed at least a dozen people… and there were only the six of us, and two of us are under 10 years old.

I know by today’s standards, I have a large family.  Not too many families are having four (or more) kids.  But I know I’m not alone in this.  Every mother I talk to does the same thing.  We cook like there’s no tomorrow.  Why?  Granted, I like having leftovers and homemade always tastes better than buying it pre-made or getting takeout.  But why do I feel this need to constantly feed people?  Am I going to be like my mom and continue going at this level even when my kids start moving away from home.  DD#1 is moving to college 500 miles from home next month.  What about next year when DD#2 leaves for college? Am I going to keep cooking for six (or more) people at every meal, even though I can’t just pack it up and ship it to them at school?  Like I said, I like having leftovers but, in 15 years, am I going to want to eat leftover fried chicken and potato salad for lunch every day for a week?

Maybe I’ve inherited the “show ‘em you love ‘em by feeding ‘em” gene from Mom.  In high school and college, all my friends loved coming to my house because my mom would feed them like no one’s business.  (She’d also kick their butts playing “quarters” but that’s a different post all together.)  Perhaps I’ll do the same with my kids’ friends.  I’ve already had one of my daughter’s friends ask if I can send her care packages when she leaves home.  And maybe one of my kids will inherit this gene from me, and the legacy of taking care of the ones you love with food will continue.  In the meantime, I’ll just keep feeding my family and friends (as an expression of love), one piece of juicy southern fried chicken at a time.  Pass the biscuits, please.