not superwoman

i think you all might have misunderstood me a few posts back. you know, when i said i go to the fabric store with three kids. i do, but believe me, i dont deserve your compliments. i think the problem springs from perception. i think you think (and correct me if i am wrong here) that i am strolling around the fabric store, looking at bolts of fabric without a care in the world, while my three children sit as comatose and angelic as cupie dolls in the shopping cart. no. not even close. while i would love it if that were true, it is more like the exact opposite. picture me in the basement, agonizing over some bag or whatever that i want to make, and after going through all of my fabric and scraps ten times (while making a huge mess) i finally decide that i just cant do it if i dont have some black and white dotted fabric. so then five days later, i muster up the courage, feed the kids, shove them in the minivan, drive like a banshee to joanns (because i could never really take three kids to a NICE fabric store) stuff them in a cart, rush over to the black/white section, grab a bolt, dash to the cutting counter. stand there like a crack addict waiting for a fix (picture some slight body tremors here) get my half yard (because i shouldnt be spending money on fabric anyway) push my cart quickly past the thread aisle, snatch one before those two sets of amazingly sticky fingers get any into the cart, pay the lady at the register, drive like a banshee back home because now arlo is screaming. get home, turn on the transformers dvd for the ten millionth time, give collette some more milk in a sippy cup because she drinks about a gallon and a half a day and spills the remaing half on the couch, then fall in an exhausted heap on the couch with a child attached to my chest. that is really more like it. i hope that clears things up. i promise i am no superwoman. i mean come on, we have been having bfd for two, maybe three (ok four) nights out of the week.

breakfast for dinner that is. guaranteed to be eaten, and involves protein. my two main goals when it comes to dinner lately. but sometimes its just pancakes. or noodles with butter. i just cant bring myself to make a regular dinner that only i am going to eat. it isnt so bad when david is there to eat some too, and eliot picks and collette just chews on a piece of pork chop for twenty minutes and thens spits out grey mounds of meat goop onto her plate. because the one thing i refuse to do is make separate meals. so we eat breakfast, because who doesnt love breakfast? crazy people thats who. somehow in my mind, making mostly decent food i know they will eat seems better than making a good dinner for myself and letting them have chips for dinner or something like that. i am thinking that in about four years from now i can make really yummy dinners and everyone will be able to eat them with a very minimal amount of complaining. until then, i read orangette for my foodie fix. yum.