I got Madeline up at 7:15am. We had scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast and she played until 9am when she went back down for a nap. During her nap, I e-mailed, blog surfed and cleaned up the kitchen. At 10:30am we headed to the pool for day two of swim lessons. (Photos from Wednesday are still on the camera... hopefully I will get those up for you by August.)
After swim lessons we had lunch at home and then ran to Sam's club for bread and milk. At 1pm Madeline went down for her second nap and I headed outside to grill dinner. Yes, I grilled at 1pm in the afternoon for a dinner that didn't get eaten until 6pm. (I rock.)
As you can see some turned out better than others.
But Kevin assures me they were not only edible but delicious too!
Then I caught a quick shower and dropped Madeline off at the in laws so that she could have some Grandma time and I could get a much needed hair cut. No photos of that either, still on the camera. Be looking for them in September.
Then I ran to the in laws, picked up Madeline, ran home and fixed the rest of dinner. (I reheated the chicken b/c I had to put it in the fridge to keep it from poisoning us.) Madeline enjoyed her chicken and spaghetti.
Needless to say it was off for a bath. She had sauce behind her ears and I couldn't put her to bed like that!Dinner was cleaned up and Madeline was bathed (thank you Kevin) and put to bed by 7pm.
Then I melted into the couch and watched Hell's Kitchen. You gotta love Chef Ramsey. He looses his mind every time a carrot is out of place! That is what you call entertainment! (or at least that is what the 10 people who watch the show think!)
mg
5 comments:
Hell's kitchen?? You watch THAT?? I just can't... the verbal abuse is painful. Reminds me of my childhood kitchen, only not as bad. (my mother was not as bad I mean... the show? awful!) Here's how my childhood kitchen experience went: I'd saunter into the kitchen. Grandma would yell "Get out of my kitchen!" That was the best case scenario. The worst case was: I'd saunter into the kitchen. Grandma would thrust a huge pot in my hands and say "Go downstairs* and get 20 potatoes".
*downstairs was the basement... a dank place at best. Full of toys and tucked in one dusty corner, a 100 lb. sack of potatoes. It was fine when it was almost full. You simply plucked them off the top. But when it got down to half full or less... well, as an adult, I know where Stephen King got his ideas. There was pure evil in that bag. Darkness, musty smells, the potatoes grew eyes, long ones that looked like worms. Those eyes glowed in the dark. And your arms weren't long enough to reach in, you had to bend over and stick your upper body in. It's a wonder I survived such danger. Forget about hell's kitchen! Think of hell's pantry! And the innocents who must toil there.....
we confess...we watch it every week as well...
geez Molly....such a long comment. It seems worthy of its own blog. Hmmmm
i don't think of that basement as a dank place with a dusty corner...i remember it as a place to break in new PFflyers tennis shoes by jumping over an obstacle course and a place to play 45 records on an old portable phonograph. i do remember the bag of potatoes propped up against a support column just outside of the bathroom with no walls (no kidding!). it WAS an awful job to have to go get the potatoes, but if you had on your new PFflyers you could do it very quickly! think happy thoughts molly! i say "hell's kitchen?? hell what is a kitchen?????"
The PF Flyer breaking in was awesome... as was the dancing to music. And the ping pong table... All worth the risk of falling into the potato bag.
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