While the Dishes Wait

Dilemma: to blog or to finish making supper and start the dishes? Hmm.

Kevin’s off fetching our CSA box, almost the last of the season, and the girls are playing “Little House,” and just came into the kitchen dressed in aprons and bonnets and mittens, wondering how they could help. Taking them seriously, I suggested cleaning up the living-room. The sounds of things being dumped currently accompany this task, but here’s hoping things are being dumped into appropriate containers. Boy, with baby CJ on the move, danger lurks in every wretched Playmobil flower abandoned on the carpet. I came out to the living-room today to discover him under the art table, grabbing up fistfuls of broken crayons with evident delight. Oh, F just returned to the kitchen and I see her Little House outfit includes a baseball cap, and beneath the apron a mermaid costume.

We are having leftover surprise tonight (thanks, Janis, for bestowing that name on a supper made from whatever’s discovered in the fridge; makes it sound so cheerful). I put whatever’s in the fridge into a big bowl, added a gravy-ish white sauce, and sprinkled cheese on top, then baked it in the oven. We’ll see if they eat it; after all, everything is mixed together, and my kids, like many kids, prefer some separation upon the plate.

Also roasting a squash and prepping a salad.

Baby CJ is so incredibly on the move that I simply marvel at his mobility. He crawled from living-room through dining-room to kitchen this afternoon, ending near the fridge. Then he suggested I pick him up and carry him around in the sling; he’s spent about three hours in that sling today and my back doth protest. But, really, baby CJ wants to walk. Whenever possible he gets a taller person to help him stand. He can hang on and stand quite ably, and as soon as he masters the getting up part, there will be no stopping him. Apparently, by six months, babies feel big. They don’t care to be identified with those blobby infant-types any more.

Election Hangover

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