So, I know all of that (I'm sure everything I wrote above is pure science), but I have not been able to eat breakfast for nothin' lately. Really, it is just not happening. I wake up and try to quickly get five kids ready and fed -- hair done, coats, backpacks, shoes, "What? You don't want to eat school lunch today?! I have to make you one?" and all of that. And all the while I am doing this one handed as I try to nurse the youngest one to fullness because I don't want him crying miserably in the car for the entire 20 min. drive to my kid's school. Then, the three youngest and I go straight to the new house since there is no point in driving back to my parents and out again, and we (by we, I mean I) clean what we can before Penny or Jesse, or even Goldie or I can't take it anymore and we head back to my mom's. Where does breakfast come into play I ask you?
So, the point of all of this is I am pretty ready to gobble up everything in sight when we get back. I still haven't grown the third hand I am wishing for, so I just make do. And, if Mike knew what I ate for lunch today, he would maybe leave me. No, he wouldn't leave me -- too much a man who fulfills his obligations for that. But, he would definitely have a hard time ever kissing me again unless or until he had watched me wash my mouth out with bleach . . . and you know the cardinal rule of mouth hygiene: never wash your mouth out with Clorox (and of course, that may not be thee cardinal rule either -- it may not even be a rule at all, but it probably . . . no, certainly should be).
Anyway, it was just a convenient combination of most left-overs in our fridge plus a few items my kids were having for lunch and included funeral potatoes, tomatoes and some nice pork-n-beans thrown in for good measure. I know all you non-food mixers are shuddering, but it was great. I had seconds, and I didn't even care because no one was there to see what I was eating. Except now I've told everyone. Dang. But really, I have been run ragged lately so leave me be. I'll blog again soon -- when I weigh one million pounds and am swishing some bleach in my mouth.
And, lest I sound whiny with all this "I'm run ragged blah blah blah poor poor me," I do realize that I am lucky that I CAN be run ragged. Does that make sense?? I just mean as crazy as things have been since signing on a crazy foreclosed house about the day Jesse was born, I realize that I can do it (so far), and tired as I am, I know that is a blessing. What if I just broke my leg or was suffering from severe depression or even had the flu right now? I don't know. Mike has heard . . . maybe a tiny tiny bit of less than perfect attitude from me . . . maybe . . . but I am grateful that I have been able to handle all the insanity of life right now even if it means I can't fit breakfast in and must eat crazy stuff for lunch.