Or something like that.
And please, will someone remind me of this tomorrow by 9:55 am? My children ate quesadillas and grapes tonight. No meat, no veggies, no nice warm family dinner after all our scampering about. Nope, instead we had mom hollering some nonsense from the kitchen about just why it was always the mother's job to cook and why on earth wasn't the laundry done, anyhow?
Actually, dinner was really nice. We were all whirlwind-busy all day. The little dog went on a good long hike in the foothills of the cascades with me and her middle boy while he broke in his new boots for a his upcoming long canoe trip. The youngest is still undefeated at fencing camp, and looks so darn cute, I mean handsome, in his fencing jacket. The oldest worked both his jobs; math tutor at the college and lifeguard. Our father figure is flying all over the country again, keeping airplanes safe to fly on for you and me. So we just toasted up some tortillas and cheese, poured some salsa in a bowl, washed some grapes and ignored the disaster on the kitchen table to go sit on the patio and eat our simple dinner.
I am so lucky that I really, really like my children. Yes, I have learned that life is easier if you know in the morning what you're having for dinner. Even better is a weekly meal plan that you stick to. But sometimes life isn't like that. Sometimes you just have to figure something out.
After dinner they all worked like mad to make a clean kitchen and even a picked-up living room and family room. I feel sane, they're out car-part shopping and I think we'll have pork chops and corn on the cob for dinner tomorrow. See? I already feel much more calm. It just might be safe to take the tuna cans out to the recycling.