A Day in Our Life

It was not a bad day. It was just a day. And I'm not posting this to complain in any way. I just want to remember what life was like when our kids were 8 months, 2, and 3. The first problem was that the whole day centered around white chili, really. I've been waiting for it to be fall so I could make it. Since I'm now an Aldi's shopper, I couldn't get the beans in a can or a jar. I had to buy them very bean-like. So I followed the directions and soaked them all night. This morning I turned them on to let them simmer for an hour and a half like the directions said. After an hour an a half they still had teeth-breaking qualities. Another hour. Still pretty hard. Another half hour. Good enough. For those of you not used to buying beans the old fashioned way, there's a LOT more of them after you put them in water apparently. I think they sneak in there and have little beany babies. So now I have enough slightly crunchy beans for at least 2 pots of chili. I'm good with that.

Meanwhile...I had to run downstairs for something (probably check my email) so I put a pillow behind Little Buddy. He sits up really well, but occasionally he gets really excited and flaps his arms so hard it makes him fall over. Don't make fun. He's a baby. So I put a pillow behind him just in case. Literally minutes later I heard a thud and then a loud cry. I run upstairs while Big Sissy is giving me the running commentary..."Mommy, the baby fell down and now he's crying." Ummm...I know. I go in there to find Little Buddy flat on his back, screaming his head off while Little Sissy has all her Little People lined up on the pillow for a nap. I tell her no no, that we need to always leave the pillow behind the baby so he doesn't fall down.

I go back to my bean checking, and the next thing I know Big Sissy is yelling, "Stop writing on me!" I go to the "art station" (I'll post a picture of this sometime. It's a beautifully hand-crafted wooden table my parents got for the girls. It is now COVERED with marker, crayon, and random other stain marks. ) Big Sissy, who is already wearing her sister's clothes because I packed away her summer clothes already, has marker from her neck to her waist. I hurry and tear her shirt off to try to get the marker out before it stains, get her a paint shirt (I'm running out of clothes), and go back to the beans.

The beans are good enough. I only have one soup pot, so I find containers for the beans and all of their offspring, wash the pot, and put the chicken in to start cooking. Now I have to find something for us to eat for lunch. Little Sissy wants macaroni and hot dog, Big Sissy wants grilled cheese and soup, and Little Buddy wants Mommy. Thankfully we have leftover macaroni, and hot dogs are easy enough. Done. I convince Big Sissy to wait on the soup since we're having yummy white chili for supper and just eat sliced apples with her grilled cheese. We compromise with applesauce. I give Little Buddy some..umm...me. By now I'm starving but I need to check on the chicken. I grab a fork, poke it in the chicken, and find that it is not done. This becomes important later in the story. I start clearing away some of the dishes while I microwave leftover taco salad for me. By the time the bell dings, I grab it, quickly pour myself some sweet tea, and take the fork that I've already gotten out and put on the "clean side" of the counter.

Finally! Lunch! I'm all done eating before I realize that I just ate my whole lunch with the fork I used to check the chicken (which, as you remember, was NOT done). OK. Add botulism to the things I need to talk to the doctor about if I ever make an appointment. I give the kids some playtime while I wash the chicken-ey food processor out so I can use it again for the onion (Remember, I'm working on white chili today). While I'm doing this, Little Sissy apparently feels crowded by the baby and pushes him down. Repeat earlier scenario. Big thud. Baby screaming. Running commentary in case I can't hear him. But this time add a spanking and a LONG and somewhat loud discourse on being careful with the baby.

Thank God it's naptime. I read Little Sissy a story while the girls argue about which one gets my "whole lap." This is a big thing lately. They're no longer happy with one on the left, one on the right. When the baby gets bigger I don't know how I'll do it. So I finally get Little Sissy in bed, do "schoolwork" with Big Sissy and a game of Candyland, get her in bed, feed the baby again, get him in bed. Whew!!!!

Can't wait for my white chili!

This is the good part. Rest for me. I read a book. I check my email. I think I even doze off a little. After about an hour of rest the baby wakes up, then Little Sissy wakes up. I go in to get Big Sissy up and realize she has had an accident. We now have about 30 minutes to get dinner finished, give her a bath, and get out the door for her choir. We don't have time to eat dinner. That's OK. I'll get some white chili when I get home...yummm...

We finally get home around 8. My sweet hubby puts the pot back on the stove while I'm feeding the baby (again) and getting him ready for bed. The next thing I know the house is full of smoke and he is asking me if I turned the burner up. Ummm...nope. I've been attached to a baby. The whole pot is ruined. The slightly-crunchy-already beans are black. The chili tastes like asphalt. I eat peanut butter and graham crackers for supper and get the girls to bed. The day is over. I'm surprisingly still in a good mood. Good thing I still have all the beany babies. We'll try again tomorrow.