I can’t really pull together a cohesive thought so here’s an oldie but goodie format to give an update on what I’ve been up to the last week or so.
Love: Hubby took me on a day date to a Jazz brunch. I LOVED it. The band was awesome, the food was excellent and Nana continues to be indoctrinated with her parents love of live music.
Hate: Since we were with a toddler, after she was finished eating, she was kind of done. Like over it. So we had to leave. This still doesn’t outweigh the absolutely awesome time that I had.
Love: Last week, Wood had to work late so I picked Nana up from day care. I left from work early every day so that Nana’s routine wasn’t too disturbed. Nana and I would cook together and were ready to serve our tastilicious food when Daddy came home. I felt like I was bringing home the bacon and frying it in the pan. #Winning. There is something about cooking good food for my family and us all sitting down together that made me feel at peace. I felt like I was balancing mother, wife and work perfectly.
Hate: That I haven’t figured out a way to make this a part of my normal routine. Normally by the time I come home, food has been cooked and Nana has eaten. Sometimes she’s already bathed and I only have an hour or so before she goes to bed. This is my struggle.
Love: Yesterday, Nana and I took a walk around the park. While it was only a mile and a half, it felt good to get started on exercising again.
Hate: It was so hot. No, seriously. It was HOT. Like Hades hot. Like cast-iron skillet hot. Like hotter than Nigeria hot. Like ridiculous that it is so hot at 6:30 PM as if it were noon. You know when you see waves coming up from the sidewalk (yeah, I know that happens because science but don’t interrupt).
After walking around the park twice, my brain shut down except for the survival instinct. All I could think was, “you have to make it home.” I was panting. Shirt drenched with sweat. Mouth dry. Sheen of sweat all over my body. Water was doing nothing. Nana was chattering like nothing was out of the ordinary. Did she know that her mother was in danger of passing out trying to walk a stupid mile? Did she know that the reason why I wasn’t answering her was because all of my brain power was going towards repeating the mantra, “one foot in front of the other.” Whoopi Goldberg ain’t got nothing on my long walk home.
And then my neighbor runs by in a jacket. A jacket? It’s two thousand degrees out here, man. What are you trying to prove? Who wears a jacket in the summer time anyway? Wacko. Of course Nana happily waves and tells him bye. I could barely look up. “One foot in front of the other.”
It was so bad that when I got home, I couldn’t figure out how to close the stroller. My brain was mush. Eventually, I just rolled it to the house and left it there. And there it is still sitting.
Shoutouts: Stacy’s Cinnamon Pita Chips – It’s that time, snacks are my pleasure – don’t judge me. No really. You should get some. My grandmother used to make cinnamon toast in this old 1960’s toaster oven and I loved it. If you made it with the right amount of butter, cinnamon and sugar, it would be crunchy on the sides but nice and crispy-gooey where the cinnamon and sugar was. I don’t make toast anymore but these pita chips give me a bit of that nostalgia. Get you some.