I have an equally disturbing number of totes, satchels, everyday purses and clutches. In which I’m hoarding enough tampons, pens and pennies to last through the apocalypse. Two I bought at least 4 purses ago and have yet to use. I convinced myself to part with only three of them.

An intervention may be needed.

{Cue Sad Trombone}
Whap whaaaaappp

I sent them to daycare anyway. They’re three, if I tell them they’re turkeys, they might believe me.

And I ran one day and worked out the next. But I also went to breakfast at Cracker Barrel and to a Mexican place for dinner so I think that cancels it out. (The Weenut’s* reaction to CB’s giant roaring fire place? “FIRE! AHHHH!” So fire safety week at day care was apparently effective.)

Then the dryer broke. And the sump pump. WTF? Both are new since we bought the house five years ago.

Oh, and then we had arts and crafts homework for DAYCARE. They sent home two pieces of construction paper taped together with instructions to make a “Family Banner” by writing our name at the top and tracing and decorating each of our hands. And you know I couldn’t just scribble some shit on there with a crayon and call it a day, right? I must say I’m quite proud of my handprint turned flower pot. Weenut’s artistic vision needs some fine tuning as he just covered his with scribbles and Cars stickers. But he stayed in the lines, so win!

Another precious memory to record: My MIL bought him a totally age inappropriate but beautiful ABC popup book for his first Christmas. Each letter reveals an amazingly detailed die cut tableau of an animal that starts with that letter. I’ve just finally started reading it with Weenut, at bedtime, when I can stop him from ripping the heads off the Okapi and Quetzal. Anywho, as we went through it Friday night, he started asking me if they have each animal at the zoo. (Although he skipped it on dinosaur, was just waiting to have to explain that one. Unconscious genius, I tell you.) When we got to panda and I was struggling to remember if our zoo had any, and started to answer, yes, he cut me off and said “No, they’re ‘in danger.’” I guess I’m getting my money’s worth out of the day care or my cable bill, because I certainly didn’t teach him that.

*Like I said, squidgy doesn’t really work now, so Weenut it is, because he’s still my little peanut weenut even if he’s not a squidgy baby any more. What? Shut up?

While it wasn’t Spam and Slobetta last year, we did have company and by the time all the food was on the table, I didn’t even care about eating. All I wanted to do was go out and buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke them all with a jug of wine chaser. So I’m racking my brains with ways to keep it simple this year, which is causing my inner Martha quite a bit of cognitive dissonance.

Since our guests this year are far from gourmands, I thought about just making potatoes and stuffing from boxes. And then someone on Facebook pointed out the chemical ingredients in these things and I feel kind of grossed out now. I may just go ahead with the stuffing and just not eat it myself, because I guarantee I’ll be the only one at the table that ever gives a thought to processed foods.

I’m going to try to make some stuff ahead and freeze it this weekend. My Memere’s traditional dressing freezes well and I always make that ahead. I’m going to roast and mash my sweet potatoes. Was thinking about making the cake part of some pumpkin whoopee pies. Chocolate chip cookies hold up pretty well. Oh, and my over-ripe banana stash in the freezer is starting to get full so I thought I’d do some banana zucchini bread muffins.

I’m starting this weekend rather than next because my inlaws have FINALLY decided that maybe they’d like to come spend some time with their grandson. (For the first time since his first Christmas. Even then, that trip was probably 75% motivated by the fact that the favorite grandchild was going to be there.) Anywho, in deference to suiting the schedule of said favored grandchild, they have chosen the weekened immediately before Thanksgiving to come visit. Convenient. So I have to plan meals and entertainment for everyone that weekend too.

I’m sure in a week I’ll be all stressy exclamation points up in here, but right now, I’m kinda of excited and all festive-y. I can’t wait to bust out my mini cookie cutters and start stamping out leaf, acorn and pumpkin shaped butter pats. (OH YEAH, I DO!) I also have a rather insane cookie idea that would be so. fucking. awesome…if I pull it off, but is more likely to end in tears. Stay tuned!

Three is pretty cool. The random flashes of wisdom beyond his years. The memory like an elephant, especially for the things you’d wish he’d forget. His exclamations of “Oh CRASH!” as a train topples off the track that we at first heard as “Oh CRAP!” The role play and pretending. Last night we were playing cars and he said to me “You’re my sister. C’mon sister, let’s drive over here and have a race!”

On the flip side, three is pretty annoying. The stubbornness that doesn’t respond to any threats of punishment. He’ll tell you “I don’t want to watch Chuggington ANYWAY! AT ALL!” as he pouts. The big fat crocodile tears that he calls up when he doesn’t get his way. The continuing shitty eating, now with the maddening “I only like school rice/pizza/pasta.”

But, oh. Even when he’s kind of being an asshole, he’s still “sooo cute.” It’s all slipping by so fast (and yet the next 15ish years of raising him seem like a really long time) and I miss using this space to record it all. So for the fifty frillionth time, committing to writing again.

I don’t really have anything witty, intelligent or even interesting to share today.  I just want to kind of shake the dust off and get back in to the habit of writing again.

Work has calmed down to some extent, but I still should be working that rather than doing this.

Outside work, I’m busily planning a 3rd birthday party. THIRD. Am enjoying the fun of getting my Martha on. For now. Ask me again when I have 4 dozen cupcakes and cookies to bake, eight wooden model trains to assemble, a pile of treat bags to collate, balloon garland to string and two days to do it in.

I think my little guy needs a new name, “Squidgey” doesn’t seem to fit any more.  But I can’t think of anything better right this second. Whatever you call him, I lurve him a bit more every single day, which I didn’t think was possible.  He is at such a great age-a real little person with thoughts and some grasp of logic and critical thinking.  Mostly, he’s well behaved, and when he’s not, it is written all over his face that he is just testing you.  He looks at you as he’s doing something naughty, and you can just tell he is thinking, “What will you do if I do this?”

Back in March we moved him from his home sitter to a daycare center. And the things he learns, being in a curriculum-based environment with all kids right about his own age, are just amazing. Not all of it’s good-the other day he told me peas would hurt his tummy if he ate them. He had to have picked that up from a classmate with older siblings. And that fake little “hmph” he does when he doesn’t get his way now-clearly that seems to be working for one of his little friends so he thought he’d see how it goes over at home (answer: mommy is not moved at all, now do what I asked you to do).

But mostly he is sunny and loving and just a touch mischievous. Every night before bed now, instead of reading books, he wants to “talk about [his] day.”  I don’t want him to ever grow out of asking me to snuggle him up when I tuck him in at night, offering me one last kiss through the bars of his crib. (Yes, He is still in the crib, we have a tall piece of furniture that needs to be wall anchored before we turn him loose, plus, not going to lie, there is a measure of peace in knowing that even if he is not napping, he’s at least confined to bed, where he has a much better chance of falling asleep.)

On the good news front, I’ve dropped my at home/personal to-do list down to 11 so at least I’m making progress somewhere.

 I am afraid to update my to do list for work, scared I will collapse into a pile of despair to see it all in writing. So instead, I am just treading water, putting out fires as they come in and wishing for an extended coma or something so it will all just. go. away.

But! I had to record this, because it is awesome and preshus, and I never want to forget it.  Scene: Getting Squidge up and at ‘em yesterday morning.

Him:  (stumbling naked to the toilet) “Colin has a penis… I have a penis,” looks at me expectantly.

Me: “Yes, that’s right, little boys have penises” (is that even how you spell that?) Meanwhile, I’m quickly calculating if I want to finish the thought, and decide that his filter is not developed enough to handle this info, lest he run around daycare today shouting “vagina.” I resolve he can wait a little longer for that particular nugget of info.

Him: “Little girls have va-ginos.”

Me: “Bwahaha…that’s right (sorta). Where’d you learn that?”

Him: “You godda say it, mommy.”

Me: “No, I’m good,” quickly changing the subject, figuring it’s still best not to reinforce use of the v-word.

Turns out, Miguel does not have quite as much foresite as I do and is the one that taught him that.  Just waiting for the note home from daycare.

Vaginos.

So anyway, this food delivery Groupon, let’s call it Schmeattle Schmuttons Healthy Eating, was for 3 days of 3 squares, all portion and calorie controlled.  When I was picturing a fresh food delivery, I was imagining some guy rolling up to my door with an insulated pizza bag and unloading beautifully prepared ahi tuna sashimi and crisp green salads.  So I was a bit taken aback when I called in to redeem the Groupon and was routed to Michigan and told my food would be delivered via UPS to Ohio. 

The box arrived last Wednesday afternoon and from the time I first cracked open the box, I was already convinced I could not do this weekly.  There was so much waste in the packaging that would be going directly in a landfill-two large gel icepacks filled with god knows what and silver bubble padding insulating the entire box.  Each meal was also packaged in a fairly large plastic tray, vacuum sealed with a label on the top explaining which day and which meal it was meant for.  I’m no crunchy granola, but imagining all that plastic and non biodegradable stuff being tossed out every week was a big turn off.

Day one started out eh on the breakfast.  A pumpkin seed flax cereal with a piece of fruit, a plum.  The cereal was good, but probably no different than what I could get a whole box of much more cost effectively from the organic section of any grocery store.  The plum was so bitter it went into the trash after two bites.  Lunch was tomato mozzarella pasta with turkey sausage, accompanied by a side of plain brussel sprouts.   The pasta was fine in taste and portion size. The brussel sprouts (which I love when prepared correctly) were absolutely murdered. So over-cooked that they were a sour olive green mush. Also in the trash can.  Dinner was pasta again. This time egg noodles with my least favorite vegetable, peas, and my least favorite garnish, red pepper, in a cream sauce.  The sauce was too thick so the pasta ended up dry and had a weird aftertaste.  I couldn’t even finish it.

On Day two, when faced with a roasted veggie wrap (eh, not a fan of roasted veggies as it inevitably includes the aforementioned dreaded peppers and also a wrap of cold slimy charred vegetables prepared at least two days ago=soggy!), with a side of corn relish/salsa…also bleh, I just couldn’t do it. The six remaining meals went right in the trash.

Despite how this sounds, I’m not a terrible picky eater. I swear I like a wide variety of meats, vegetables and cuisines.  It’s like this meal delivery was custom selected to ping all my food dislikes. So big fat fail on that.  Back to frozen meals. With summer approaching, I’m also considering giving the produce bin another try. There’s a slightly smaller bin that I can do, if I top it off with $10 in additional organic groceries each delivery. 

You know what I need? A personal chef to keep me stocked with an array of fresh, beautifully prepared, flavorful, healthy meals. That’s not too much to ask, is it?