Yearly Archives: 2010

menu plan Monday

It’s just that we’re old school like that

menubutton

Monday: Grilled chicken sausages with macaroni and cheese.

A partially grown-up version of the Li’l Smokies with mac ‘n’ cheese the school cafeteria used to serve. Except that the macaroni is definitely going to be provided by Kraft, so that part’s maybe not so grown-up.

Tuesday: Seafood nachos.

And when I say “seafood,” I mean “krab.” My mom used to make seafood nachos when I was a kid. I’m going to add a few things to the “traditional” chips-krab-cheese setup, though. Specifically: Beans. Somehow, this seems to be turning into Nostalgic Foods with a Twist week.

Wednesday: Butternut squash ravioli.

Thursday: Fajitas.

Whenever I ask for Rockford’s input on the menu, he requests fajitas. And I almost never comply. This week, though, I suppose I will.

Friday: Pizza.
Family matters

Of snakes and bugs, of lunches and more lunches

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Monday

Pete: Are there no snakes? The snake’s running at the door?

Me: The snake’s running at the door?! Why?

Pete: It can’t find the door. The snake’s broken. He got mashed.

Me: By what?

Pete: He’s broken, he’s mashed.

Me: How did he get mashed?

Pete: He went to up the tree.

Me: And then what happened?

Pete: He went to see the car. He went to under the car. And then he drived to California.

Tuesday

Pete: Bug in my pocket. Ladybug in my pocket. I said, “Come into my pocket again!” And I had to take it away from me. He got lunch from my pocket.

Me: What else is in there?

Pete: Something to give to the ladybug. He wants a grilled cheese sandwich.

Wednesday

Pete: I want my lunch.

Me: You’ve already had your lunch

Pete: I want my lunch after my lunch.

Thursday

Pete: Piglet is sad.

Me: Why is Piglet sad?

Pete: He wants some Snonic.

Friday, one from the girl
The kids are upstairs playing “monsters in a cave.” This involves a couple of flashlights and as little light as possible. I am downstairs, washing dishes folding laundry being productive reading “Real Simple.”

Poppy: Mommy, I’ve made a mistake. And sometimes mistakes just happen.

I go upstairs and find her in my bedroom. The doorway of which has been barricaded by a baby gate, because her brother enjoys throwing coins from my change jar down the stairs.

Poppy: Mommy, I’m stuck.

Me: But how did you get there?

Poppy: I climbed over the gate, but then I couldn’t climb back out.