TheMommyBlog

Tuesday, March 27, 2007 Family

Man or man, how time flies. Yeah, right. Like a fly stuck in molasses, more like.

I don’t remember the last time I felt so totally *TILT* but then again it could be because I’m not able to perform those kinds of mental operations anymore. The combination of trying to find creative ways to be endlessly repetitive at work (picture holding parent-teacher conferences for five thousand students), missing the kids when they’re gone, being overwhelmed by the kids when they are here—in a good way, mostly—and the constant worrying and figuring and juggling necessary to keep the payments up on all the plates I’m spinning.

Twice today I was confronted with a database problem I wished I could solve. One, I could solve because I know how but can’t because it’s not my database, and the other I couldn’t because there’s no admin tools that are open to me so I have to go through the records I’m responsible for manually. It’s like trying to chip through a mountain with a spatula.

On the up side, I can’t exaggerate how much easier my life is this week because of all the leftovers from Phil’s cooking over the weekend. Within fifteen minutes of the kids complaining of hunger, I had individual trays served up with pulled pork (done in the pressure cooker in the most wonderful broth until you could slurp it up with a straw), vichyssoises, french bread, and red grapes.

Believe it or not, two of my kids are freaks about vichyssoises. I aim to keep it that way by maintaining that it’s “potato soup” and never mentioning the heretofore never-encountered mystery vegetable called “leek.”

When I waltzed into the room with three gorgeous, steaming trays for everyone and explained what everything was, Dylan said, “Could you please make some room so I can faint?”

He and Daphne scarfed the pork; Logan not so much. “I tried it and the first bite tasted like heaven, but the second bite tasted like the opposite of heaven. It sort of tasted like…”

“That’s okay, sweetheart, you did a great job on everything else!”

“Everything else” meant eating all of his vichyssoises, all of Daphne’s, and most of Dylan’s until Dylan caught onto how delicious it was. And then, as I was cleaning up, Logan asked if there was more soup, so I slopped all the rest into a bowl and he ate all of that too. I really wish Phil had been there to see it.

Later, just before everyone went to bed, Logan came to me at my desk and said, “Be sure to thank Phil for the vicious swan!”