This is something I have been trying to figure out since Scott and I got married, with little success. No matter how much I cook, it seems the leftovers just disappear like magic.
But surely Scott working would fix that, I thought. See, usually I cook about every other day. So we'd have "fresh" food on Monday night, leftovers for lunch Tuesday, leftovers for dinner Tuesday and leftovers for lunch Wednesday. Then I'd cook something new for dinner Wednesday. Kinda monotonous, but we didn't mind. Also, I would tend to eat toast and eggs or whatever for breakfast. Breakfasty foods. Scott tended not to eat breakfast, though he'd sometimes have toast or something as a bedtime snack. This worked often enough that I didn't bother finding a new system. Times when we ran short of leftovers, we ate baked potatoes with cheese or something.
He could take leftovers to work, but it's easier to send him with a sandwich and he doesn't mind.
So the conclusion should be that in a two-day rotation there would be two extra servings of food left over at the end, right? Or in situations where I would have run short before, the food will last until next time I cook.
Well, my darling husband decided to start EATING BREAKFAST. And I can't even be mad at him, because he has a BMI of 19 on a good day. (He is a naturally wiry sort of person, I think, but even naturally wiry guys should have a little more meat on their bones.) Eating breakfast is probably a good idea. So I'll heat up leftovers while he's getting ready, and he'll take the plate/bowl/whatever in the car with him as I drive him to the bus stop and start his day with real food like he ought to.
This is really messing up my plans.
Of course, the only comment you can leave on such a post is something about how you will pray for them. So I would, and then I would forget, and then the person would post a "Thanks for all the prayers, the interview went well, I hear back in 2 weeks" kind of status. And I'd feel really guilty for not actually praying.
So a couple years ago, I hit upon a plan: Every time I saw one of those statuses, I would stop right there (not even reading on in my news feed) and say a Memorare. Later that turned into a Hail Mary, because I have the attention span of a fruit fly and I don't know the Memorare as well. Sometimes if I'm really tired or scatterbrained it turns into, "Hey Jesus, help [her/him] with that thing." But I pray.
This is not meant to make me sound especially virtuous. If I was virtuous, I'd tell you about how I write them down and remember them in my daily rosary or something. (Ha ha ha.) Nope. If you're my Facebook friend and you post a prayer request, that on-the-fly Hail Mary is probably all you're gonna get.
But at least it's something, right?
The first week, he took the 7:45 bus, which got him downtown in time for him to clock in at 8:30. Last week and this week, he's been taking the 7:20 bus, which gets him downtown in time to clock in at 8:00 and therefore gets him home at about 5:20 in the evenings rather than 5:50, which is nice considering that evenings are now our only time together. Except that we live right near a couple of access points to a major highway, so traffic around here nearly unnavigable at 5:20. I manage, though.
It is kind of amazing how efficient we're able to be in the mornings. I mean, I consider myself a morning person, and at school I'd often be up at 6 and out the door at 6:20 so I could go to the 6:30 a.m. Mass. But I still like to sit and have a leisurely breakfast in my pajamas (usually while surfing the internet) and then putter around getting ready for the day whenever possible. My ability to be productive peaks around 10 a.m. Meanwhile, Scott's ability to be productive peaks around...10 p.m.? I don't even know, because my brain is shutting down for the night by then. Yet he's been consistently getting up, getting ready, and getting out the door by about 7:10. He's kinda awesome.
The moral of this story is that my family knows how to grow babies.
Since I don't want my post to be sad and pictureless, here's a picture from a few weeks ago. Bonus: You get my cute sister (one of them, anyway) in this picture too!
Then on Thursday I took him up to his parents house after we ate dinner and relaxed a little, so they could leave at 7:30 for a special pre-concert practice (practice was at 8:00 instead of 7:00). Scott didn't get back until 11:30, which I guess made sense but which still made me miss him horribly.
As I write this, it is about 1 hour and 20 minutes until I get to see him again. I'm counting down. And I'm really glad it'll be the weekend. (Of course, we're going to have to spend several hours of that weekend at this concert. But that will be nice, right?)
Scott's family got two new puppies on Tuesday. They're apparently half Miniature Poodle and half Lhasa Apso. (Scott calls them "The Fa la la la la dogs.") They're supposed to be hypoallergenic, which was appealing because at least one of my brothers-in-law is allergic to the poor beagle they got last year. So right now they have a 1-year-old dog and two 2-month-old dogs scurrying around the house. The idea is for the beagle to get a new home eventually, but of course they're taking the time to make sure she gets a good one. It's not her fault she's not a hypoallergenic Fa la la la la dog.
As I was cuddling the puppies and squeaking over them yesterday (while dropping Scott off for schola; see the segue there?) it occurred to me that while I don't like dogs, I really love puppies. This is problematic, of course, since puppies have this alarming tendency to turn into dogs. Anyway, how that all came out in the wash is that now I want a kitten. A lot. Somebody tell me I can't get a kitten, not even a funny-looking hypoallergenic one. (Mom, you should tell me this. Because if in 5 or 10 years one of my kids ends up allergic to the hypothetical ugly hypoallergenic cat, she's coming to live with you. See why it's bad to expose me to small fluffy things?)
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