Monday, January 22, 2024

Figuring Out Supper

For many of us, what we're having for supper is the decision that haunts us all day.  

It seems we've developed a bit of a routine over the years.  My brain needs its energy to countless other innumerable challenges - 

from helping Blossom2 access her online learning platform when for some reason, it just won't link despite all the access codes in the world... 

to tackling slope and y-intercept challenges with Blossom3 when my brain is still absorbing my morning cuppa tea...

to helping Blossom4 remember to oil-pull for the health of her tonsils...

Oh wait, and supper?  Did you say supper????


My tried and true method is this:

Decide on supper when you're dealing with breakfast, 

the very first meal of the day.  

When the Blossoms filter in after devotions and chores and I'm puttering about in the kitchen with them... I decide on supper.

(I do realize that moms of littles probably aren't puttering about the kitchen; they're scrambling about the kitchen.)  

But you're in the kitchen, so decide on supper.  Don't worry about what you're in the mood for.  Don't worry about what sounds good.  Look at the time that you have for preparing supper.  Look at the menu you made before you went shopping.  

Decide.  Just decide.  

Then, pull the meat out of the freezer and put it on a plate to thaw all day.  

Good job!  You conquered that decision!  

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Crystal Fresh Air

Busy, busy, busy.

That's how it always is.  

The snow days are refreshing, mainly because of the "margin."  

The breathing room.

The schedule white space.

The time to stop.

The time to go.


The time to sally forth altogether instead of scattered about hither and yon.


Round up the thrift store finds, cobble together enough gear for the Blossoms, and venture out into the winter wonderland.


Breathe the crystal fresh air.  

Laugh at your fall in the snow.

Smile at Binney's antics.

Trek a little further in.  

Tumble into the truck, rosey-faced, 
brushing off the snow, 
complaining that Mom took too many pics, 
breathing sighs of contentment.