I knew this year was going to be a different kind of birthday celebration—the kind where we were quarantined. We usually observe birthdays in our house with some fanfare and a week-long celebration, a leftover from when B was gigging and traveling a lot. But this year, with mandatory isolation in place and all non-essentials closed to the public, our celebration would be modest. We’re not extravagant people, but I admit I was dispirited, aggrieved like I had lost something: no shopping to buy that one new birthday outfit, no new haircut and color, no date night out of the house, no friends, no chocolate party.
Read MoreWe made a large pan of Rice Krispies Treats, and by we, I mean the Girl made them while I supervised the process. I figured that I needed to encourage her culinary skills so that she would be able to survive on more than ramen noodles, microwave popcorn, and pizza in the eventuality that she will leave home for college in four years or so. Rice Krispies Treats are a cheap student essential that can be made with nothing more than three ingredients and a hot pot. Trust me, I know.
Read MoreI am done with school, as in I am done with the kids being in school for this school year. Sure, I’ll send them back to school in August because by then I’ll be happy to see them leave the house and not return for seven straight hours. But today, I am done with school, and I’m excitedly, impatiently awaiting the last day of school—this Friday. It’s not because we have great summer plans, it’s more because I will not be getting up at super-duper early o’clock every single day. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Yes, when the alarm goes off every morning, it is officially super-duper early o’clock.
Read MoreThere was this one time the meal plan said it was salad bar night, and as you know, the meal plan must be followed—just so there’s no mistake, I write the meal plan, but I apparently forgot to send out the meal plan memo. And just so you know, not everyone in the house is as big of fan of salads as I am.
Read MoreYesterday after school, the Girl said, “We should get Qdoba for dinner.”
“I was just thinking about Qdoba this morning,” I said.
“Great, let’s get Qdoba.”
“We have other dinner plans tonight, but maybe this weekend we can do homemade Qdoba bowls at home,” I said.
“No, Momma,” she said. “That’s just not the same.”
We made it through the first week and a couple days into the second week of the new school year. Of course, there was drama. There was drama because I have kids. And there was drama because one of those kids is a teenage girl. And she has teenage girlfriends. If I said nothing else, you would completely understand. But I can’t leave it here. So I am going to start with the easy one…
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“I’ll get the chocolate pie. The song says, ‘Bring another piece of pie for your wife.’ I gotta do what the song says, so I bring the chocolate pie,” B said. “I’ll buy a pie because I’m sure not going to make one. Just to be clear, Friday is pie day.”
Read MoreMonkey Boy called out from the family room, “Momma, I didn’t get my daily Pop Tart.” “Daily Pop Tart?” I questioned. “Since when is that a thing?”
Read MoreMy father, in a near panic, found a police and told him that he lost, “Two adults and a teenager in the park.” I can only imagine the response of the police officer, because, again, I was not there. I was still walking around the park with my mother and Uncle Alfred looking for our car…
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I was cutting it kind of close with meal planning. I have fruit aplenty and some carrots and a cucumber. In the pantry, I have a lot of nuts and some dried fruit and protein bars. I also have a cabinet full of spices. I really wanted to just grab a handful of whatever and throw it in a bag, pat some heads, and push them out the door. You can just imagine the conversation in the cafeteria, “I got some wasabi almonds, dried apricots, half a cuke, and a jar of fennel. Anyone wanna trade?”
Read MoreB loves tomato soup, but I wasn’t so sure that the Girl and Monkey Boy would. I was formulating a backup meal plan for them when they wandered into the kitchen inquiring as to the “oh-my-goodness-we’re-starving” what and when of dinner. I braced myself for, “That’s what we’re having for dinner? That’s child abuse. I would rather eat vomit.” Instead, I got, “I love tomato soup!” shouted loudly and in unison. They even high-fived each other followed by a yay and a fist bump and a little jig right there in the middle of the kitchen.
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It was nearly bedtime when Monkey Boy announced that he was hungry. B was in the kitchen and asked him, “Do you want a piece of bread?
“Yes, please,” Monkey Boy replies. So B cuts a thick piece of bread, and then Monkey Boy said, “How about a piece of cheese, too?”
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