7QT: “thankful” edition

One

Here we are, finally at Friday. How amazing is that. Did some school. Cooked some food. Yelled at some children. Argued with Matt. Walked the dog once. Broke down and ate some pasta. Dammit. Basically muddled through the week and didn’t die. So there’s that.

Two

Speaking of food, not that we were, so sue me, I had one of many tiny meltdowns this week upon arriving home from Aldi and seeing, once all the groceries were unloaded and piled high on the kitchen counter, how completely and totally I have capitulated to the ease of fast garbage food. Not just the two delicious Aldi pizzas, which cannot ever come off the list, but stupid cups of soup and a box of conflakes and disgusting Aldi bagels. “This cannot go on” I whined to Matt who thought we had been having a good day, foolish man, and hates these sudden unpredictable moments of despair, “I used to make bread, every week, and cook things for lunch and dinner. I used to exercise and enjoy interesting and different kinds of food. We used to read to the kids!” I stopped, not saying, but thinking every. single. day. what a big, well, short but flabby failure I am. It’s the most obvious conclusion to draw. If I was a good mother my children would eat real delicious soup for lunch, like on Large Family Logistics. Or I would hand make tortillas, like someone I know on facebook. Or I would make enough bread on Monday to feed all six children without, and here’s the kicker, eating it myself. I don’t want to make bread because I’m not tempted by Aldi bagels, but, and here is the point of true lowest level of hell despair, I frequently break down and eat them anyway. Somehow, the excuse that I’m “homeschooling” and I can “only do so much” isn’t cutting it for me any more. I Love food, and I love cooking. I’ve got to get it back somehow. Maybe I’ll figure it out next week. Probably that will definitly happen.

Three

The little girls’ beds came this week, ptl, and Matt and I holed up in their room for three hours putting them together and trying not to hurt ourselves. This was our view the whole afternoon.

Such a very very very long wait, and not being allowed to come in and help.

Boy, that would have been a treat. Three little girls “helping”. I don’t feel at all guilty for the firm and oft repeated “No!” There were hundreds, it seemed to me, of tiny bits that could have been rolled around the room and carried out in little hands and pockets.

They are all very happy now. I’ll try to take some pictures. Once they were all settled they went next door to look at the boys’ room and tut tutted about how messy it is.

“I’ll clean it for you” said Elphine.

“No!” shouted Alouicious.

And so the long day wore on.

Four

I’ve really and truly lost a library book. I can’t find it anywhere. So so so upset. Going to have to face the library again, sob, and confess. Want to die.

Five

Speaking of food, which we weren’t, so sue me, I wasn’t exactly cooking but I did happen to throw the rest of Sunday’s pork, cubed, into a pan with an onion, a green pepper, half a stick of butter, a half cup of cream, and a can of white beans. Oh my goodness. So delicious.

Six

Recognizing that this is November, the month of thankfulness–although how did it become a whole month? Is that an invention of facebook? I miss the old days when we only had to be thankful for one measly day–and that thankfulness is an important part of life, and will usually cure what ails ya, I’m going to try to be thankful for at least one thing a week for the next three weeks.

Does that seem excessive? Maybe I should just keep it to the one day. I’m whispering so you won’t email me or turn me in to the thankfulness brigade. Just kidding. Love being thankful! Love love love it. Going to be thankful for one whole thing a day from here on. One a Day. I promise.

Seven

Going to pretend that the cloud covering Binghamton today is the cloud of God’s glory, and that it’s not “gray” it’s “silver” and that we’re all very happy about it. Won’t that be nice.

Go read Jen!