1. God bless Costco precooked chicken. One of them feeds my family of four for three nights. Two night of straight chicken eating and a third night of chicken enchiladas or chef salad with chicken or taco soup.
2. Someone asked me the other day, "Where did you adopt your boys from?" It was actually a really refreshing question. Because I've always wondered why most people assume Garrett is biological just because he's Caucasian. And, yeah, sure, the kid looks exactly like me but most people--and all their extended family members plus their mailman--think he's a spitting image of his father who usually isn't with me when adoption questions come up.When I answered, "Well, Garrett is biological and Matthew was born in California," the response was a somewhat surprised, "Oh! Okay." Again, it was just nice that someone realized that just because Garrett is Caucasian doesn't mean he came from my body. Even though, in this case, he did.
3. I started watching that new show Revolution. I have a very strong feeling that I will waste five years of my life on it and then throw something at my television during the finale. Much like I did with Lost. That being said, I have to know why the lights turned off!
4. I really like autumn in Utah. Except for the fact that it's just a pretty transition into winter. And I don't like winter in Utah. December in Utah is fine. But the long, cold months of January, February, March, April and part of May can just fall right off the calendar for all I care. So basically, what I'm saying is that seven months out of the year I'm pretty happy with the weather patterns. I guess it could be worse.
5. I'm trying to buy my kids one fun thing at the grocery store when we go. This is difficult because GOODNESS have you seen the price of food these days? But I don't want my boys to grow up and say things like, "If only my mom had bought us cookies every once in a blue moon." I say no so often. Take today, for example. They wanted canned strawberries. They wanted cheese shaped like Mickey Mouse. They wanted donuts. I said no to all of those. But I bought them Little Debbie Fall cakes. They were pretty excited. One of them pumped his fist, howled, "Yes!" and then followed it up with, "I love you, Mom."
Last week I bought them each a packet of Kool-Aid. My husband informed me that Kool-Aid was a staple for him growing up and that I was probably going to be responsible for my kids growing up maladjusted because I'd never made it. (Just kidding. He totally didn't say that.) We had it as a rare treat but I do remember enjoying it. So I let them each pick a packet. It was the first time, in Garrett's six years of life and Matthew's three, that I'd ever bought Kool-Aid. So I got home, completely under the impression that I added that little packet to some water and called it a fun drink. Then I read the directions.
AND OH MY GOSH DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT YOU HAVE TO ADD AN ENTIRE CUP OF SUGAR TO THAT CRAP? I truly did not know this. So I added way more water than it called for because I do not need those boys hopped up on that much sugar, believe me. And then I had a slight panic attack that I was completely polluting their systems. I mean, their bodies are TEMPLES for crying out loud. But I shook it off and was met with two perfect smiles when that drink hit those tongues.
Although, thankfully, a week later, most of that Kool-Aid is still sitting in the fridge. They simply don't ask for it. And for that there is much rejoicing.