A friend of mine posted this movie on Facebook with a 'remember this?' and, usually, I don't, but this time I did.
Pot roast was my culinary Waterloo. Was, until I found this recipe -
The idea of cold oatmeal, or overnight oats, repels me. Like, I find it morally repugnant.
I decided to give it a try, and turns out, I love it. Chia seeds are crack. I disgust myself.
I am reading Epic Mom, a book by my friends MOV and Marianne. I'm reading it sitting in the car line, and it makes sitting in the cold car while Henry throws shit at the back of my head much more bearable. I'm going to review it, which will be the first time I have ever reviewed anything.No one has ever asked, which kind of pisses me off, now that I think of it! So, thanks MOV and Marianne!
I am going to be more honest than I want to be here: Julia drives me nuts. She is just so intense and winter is hard on her, and me. She needs to get out and run around and she isn't getting that. Katie's play is in the last week of rehearsals, and we have school projects due and she's nervous, and Henry pees on everything, and poor Julie is just floundering. She really needs more of my attention and patience, and I need to remember that she is just a little kid. She is the easiest of the three and I get so exasperated, and I feel awful. I will change that.
Also, March owns my ass.
I don't think there is a day on the calendar when something isn't going on. I am behind on doctor's appointments and pictures and oh, everything. I finally made an appointment for the piano to be tuned since we bought it (three years ago), and the grandfather clock to be serviced (every 5 years, we've had it 12 and never done it).
I bought some clothes because, again with the painful honesty, I was embarrassed. I gained some weight over the winter and nothing fit. I was wearing a lot of sweatpants and sweatshirts. Ratty looking shit from Target (clearance, $3.99), not lululemon.
The weather is going to be nice next week, eliminating my last excuse for not running all winter, and most fall. I don't think I've run even once since November. I am scared to death of that first go, but my life is so much better when I'm running, even a little.
I am not writing, I am tired. I told a friend that I was sitting at the literary equivilant of the Woolworth counter. Later, I realized I meant Schwab's where Lana Turner was discovered, not the site of a civil rights protest in Greensboro, NC. I am not comparing my writing to the fight for racial justice. My bad.
I always feel like there is so much to do.
Shutup Roxy needs a bath. The last time I cut her nails, she got away before I could get one paw, and now I can't remember which one I missed. She turns thirteen this month, and she is such a jerky dog, but she's mine and I love her. My mom got a puppy, because she is crazy. It makes me want one a little, too. Like I feel when learning a friend is pregnant - for just a minute I want one too, and then I remember what huge pains in the ass puppies and babies are. They just suck the life out of you, in a good way. I will be content with my kids who poop in a toilet and my old, fat dog who pees outside.
Our pillow top mattress was shit, just horrible. I was sleeping in a hole. Mattresses are ridiculously expensive, so Sean cut the pillow top off and we bought a foam topper for $159 at Costco. Next to the $14 air popper, it may be the best money we've ever spent. Take that, mattress people!
I am restless. I want to get out and dig in the dirt and stop wearing coats and pull out the flip flops. I want to wash everything and throw things away and do something new. I feel a deep need to spiff shit up. I'm thinking about something new for SFC, and I'm going to ask my friend JRose what she thinks.
Out with the old, in with the new. It seems to be a thing, this March.