weekly weigh-in...blah.

I am not ready to say exactly what the numbers are we are talking about here, but let's just say...I was up .8 of a pound since last Tuesday's weigh-in. I cannot go on gaining on weekends and taking all week just to get back down to where I was, or I will never lose this excess weight. blah! But as Mali always says, "It could be worse, it could be raining."




I behaved pretty well yesterday. The cake taunted me for a while, then I figured out a plan. My first snack was some chicken and a pear, my second snack was going to be yogurt. I decided to sneak in a very small piece of cake, on top of the yogurt, with some slivered toasted almonds. I shouldn't have had any at all, but. I did. It tasted like rich chocolate-y Oreo cookies. It is all gone now, thankfully.




For dinner, I made homemade chicken pot pies. I baked some chicken breasts with olive oil and seasonings, then cheated and opened three cans of cream of chicken soup...I simmered five pounds of cubed potatoes in that(with lots of water) while the chicken baked. I rolled out pie crusts to fit the 9'x13' glass baking pans. When the chicken was done, Evelyn chopped it up, I added it to the pot with two bags of frozen mixed veggies. Then into the crusts, topped with crust, and into the oven. It only had to bake for 20 minutes to make the top golden, and...it was so so good. Camille had thirds! The kids really liked it, and I regretfully couldn't say NO to the yummy crust. I


thought I would just eat around it, but ha.



I did resist dessert, they had Reese's Klondike bars, and mint chocolate chip Klondike bars. Paul also got out a bag of cinnamon imperials he found in the cupboard. They have only 60 calories for like 46 of them, so I had ten.



We sat around the table for a while, solving the world's problems. Emily, my nice and unselfish and sweet and fun oldest daughter, is taking Samuel and Margaret to Washington, D.C. for a few days next month. Samuel...he is a total World War II know-it-all, a real history buff. Margaret is close behind him. I want to go too! Those Smithsonian museums are amazing.



Today I am a nice mom. I let my Charlotte Claire stay home. She has been going to school just too much lately. So on this chilly drizzly dark morning, I did not even wake her up. I explained to Sonja and Jonathan that she is little, and her kindergarten day is too long. They were fine with her getting to stay home. They know I did the same for them when they were little. Do I need to even mention how happy Miss Camille is this morning? I'm telling you, this is where the joy is, having the kids here all happy and playing...they have the whole living room as their "house", dollies everywhere...



Margaret is home, she is sick with something. She is achy and her neck hurts and she has a headache. Evelyn is home because we are running out of food again, and we need to go library hopping again. I owe $23.24 in overdue fines to one of them. blah. Oh, Evelyn is here because going to the library is her Favorite Thing, and she says they are doing nothing today in school since there are state tests tomorrow. I told her I need a nap first. It sounds nice, doesn't it? Climbing under my electric blanket, and just dozing off...it IS one of those days. It was snowing when I was out with Rosie, raining first and windy, then actual snow blowing down.



But I won't take a nap. I have too much to do. I need to work out and clean up this house, and get to the store. We are out of yogurt and bananas and have no salad stuff. The milk is getting low, and the bread is almost gone.



Charlotte Claire just asked me, "Mama, how come I never get my wishes come true?" What wishes, I asked. She said, "That I never have to go to school again." Camille, who has never been to school, said that school was fun, but Char told her that it is NOT fun. hmm.



Emily picked Sonja, Jonathan, and Charlotte Claire up from school yesterday and took them to a diner, to celebrate their birthdays, which are all coming up soon. What a nice big sister. I thought about asking if I could join her with Camille, but I knew that would ruin it. Em said they were really really good, and it was fun taking them.



I stayed up way too late last night. Way too late. I should not do this to myself. I had a lazy-ish day yesterday because it was so dark and chilly and rainy, my favorite kind of day ever...after I worked out and did a little bit of work around here, I sat down with my book...and Camille crawled into my lap in her princess dress. I covered her up with my robe, and she fell asleep. I read my book,rocked my chair, she slept. How perfect is that? It lasted for over an hour. Pure bliss, I tell you. The only thing that could have made it better: coffee and cookies, but I do not eat cookies anymore.



My coffee cup is almost empty, and I should really really get moving. I wish there was a way to slow down these days. My phone did a strange thing this morning: the clock stopped at 7:09. It kind of freaked me out, because we all know that song about the clock stopping when the old man died. I did not die, but it feels omenous, and I cannot and do not want to feel like that. To just say it straight out, I have a son in Afghanistan. I am not a wreck about him, I am not scared to death. But sometimes...I just get these pangs of worry so strong, I want to go over there and get him and drag him back here where he belongs. When my phone clock stopped, I thought, "Oh no.". Immediately. I just talked to Ben yesterday, and he was fine. It is irrational. But I did think it. He is doing well though. He says he is learning just how blessed we Americans are. He sees the poverty in the villages. He knows the lumpy cot he sleeps on is horrid but better than what the people there have. He knows that when he gets home he will revel in a comfy bed, for a while, before he forgets all about what it is like to not have it. He misses couches, he says. His days are long, filled with patrols and watches, and his nights are short, just a few hours of sleep and then watch-duty. He goes on missions with guys with mine-sweepers, and he rides in trucks with big guns on them. This is not a game, and it is not fun for his mama. It is so nice to talk to him though! He has a good attitude, and seems determined to learn from what he is going through.



And now, I shall get up out of this comfy chair...