The Week is On

Hello, Caitlin! How was your weekend? How was your Mother's Day? Your visit with your sister?

Sorry, I can't talk now.

My kitchen has been invaded by ants.

Niceness can put you on the spot

Yesterday, Joseph and I were peacefully shopping at Winco (I let Joseph eat his way through the store- animal crackers? Chex mix? Fruit snack? Yes, yes, and yes!) when I was accosted by a Catholic woman.

How do I know she was Catholic?

Well, partly because, by the time I could pull myself from her grasp, I knew her entire life story (Five kids, one 15 years behind everyone else, her husband’s job is on the rocks, and- by the way- she has a bad cold), but mostly because she cornered me to extend an invitation to a Catholic Mother’s conference this weekend.

Well, here are the problems with that:

1) My sister and her family are in Boise this weekend (woot!woot!)

2) I am not Catholic.

I offered my excuses weakly, but she plowed ahead with her life-story-telling, and promises of the sunshine, rainbows, and TREATS that awaited me at the conference.

At this point, I probably should have taken my (now whining) baby and said, “No thanks!” and walked away.

Or maybe, she should have taken the hint from my crying Protestant child and let me go on my merry way.

But no, I smiled, said, "Well, we'll have to see..." and took a flier.

It didn't end there.

She started talking about the play group that she was involved in, and how they had so much fun, ate lots of food while the children played, etc.

Always a sucker for food, I perked up.

And gave her my number to call me with play group information.

What the heck, Caitlin?!

What were you thinking?

And yet, there I stood with a dopey smile on my face, thinking "Wow! Treats and maybe a few new friends? Sign me up."

But.

Then she left, saying "How interesting to have a non-Catholic woman come to our playgroup! I bet that we will both learn a lot."

Wait. What does that mean?

You and I both know - CONVERSION.

So, my enthusiasm for snacks was dampened, and I continued my shopping with a sick feeling in my stomach.

Why can't I ever say no? (It's a quality that Brian loves about me)

Right as I was about to leave, the lady found me, stopped me again and said,

"I just want to tell you- Bless you for doing the right thing and staying home with your children."

And she walked away.

Again, I say what the heck?

First of all, she didn't even know that I stay home with Joseph! Despite the fact that I know her life story, she knows nothing about me because I didn't have a chance to speak. Were the sweatpants a giveaway?

Secondly, the "right thing?" The right thing for ME, sure, but I don't think that being a working mom is the WRONG thing.

If you can't swing it on one income- then you are going to need two.

If you don't want to stay home with your kiddos- then by all means, don't!

The self-righteousness of it all just rubs me the wrong way.

So, now I am in a pickle.

Poor, Lori is going to call me, and I am going to have to lie and say that Brian won't let me go.

And that I have to respect his wishes since he is the head of the household.

At least I know that she'll approve.

Goodbye, snacks.

(UPDATE: If you are a Catholic reader, know that I love you. I have no problems with the Catholic faith at. all. Just this particular lady. I have encountered this pushiness from MANY other religions as well, it all depends on the individual. In fact I would go so far as to say that Catholics + Me = best friends. So, no hating on my part. Thank you.)

Thursday’s Culinary Adventure

 

Tonight, on Thursday’s Culinary Adventure:

I saw this recipe on one of my favorite blogs, My Charming Kids and I just had to try it!  You can read her recipe here.

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You will need:

2 c. instant couscous (you can get this in bulk at most stores)

1 c. dried cranberries

1/2 c. chopped walnuts

2 tsp. white onion, very finely chopped

1 32 oz. can chicken broth

dash of salt and pepper

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In a medium bowl, combine couscous, dried cranberries, onions, salt and pepper.

Bring chicken broth to a boil, and then pour in couscous mixture.

Allow to sit, covered, for 10 min., or until the couscous has absorbed all the broth.

At this point, I realized that I had forgotten to take any pictures of the process so far.

Sorry.

 (Note the Strawberry-Rhubarb pie in the background.  Homemade.  Don’t you wish that I was your wife?)

When you uncover your couscous, it will probably look all sticky and solid like this

fluff it with a fork until it looks like this

then stir in the walnuts.

Serve immediately.

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Taste Testers Say:

Brian:  Yum!  It’s nice!  (He is eating his with hot sauce- but he eats everything with hot sauce.)

    

Caitlin:  It’s great!  I can’t wait to eat the leftovers for lunch! (Yes my picture was taken at a different time than everyone else.  I always forget.)

Joseph:  LOVED IT!

 

(His was nut-free, of course.)

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Summary: 

Pretty tasty.  I did add a little garlic salt to mine, because I thought that it needed a little somethin’-somethin’.  I suppose that you could also make the chicken flavored couscous, and just stir in the cranberries and nuts…hmm… I also think that I will throw in a little bit of olive oil next time to make it a little less sticky.  I will definitely make this again.

Grade: A- / B+

PS. A word to the wise:  Couscous is very messy.

 

A late award post

I received an award from Mommy of Ms a few weeks ago, and I am sorry to say that I am just now getting around to posting about it.

The only thing that makes me feel better is that SHE took a while to post about it too, so I know that she understands.

Anyway, I received the Mommy of the Year award.



The Rules are: Tell us one thing that you feel bad about involving being a mom:

Well, those of you who ARE moms know that being a parent is basically like one giant guilt trip. I literally feel bad about something every day, and resolve to do better tomorrow.
I would say that most of the time I feel bad that I have to do things other than just play with, hold, and kiss Joseph.
Those dishes won't do themselves, and we are running out of clean undies- so little Joseph has to cry and cling to mommy's leg.

Well, technically he COULD play on his own- but he chooses to cry and cling. He would be so much happier if he just had me to himself all the time, and that makes me feel guilty.

List seven things that you love about your kids, love doing with your kids, etc.

1) Kissing soft sweet baby cheeks.
2) The smell of Joseph after the bath
3) Getting to do fun kid things again- coloring, banging on pots, blocks, etc.
4) His laugh
5) How happy he is first thing in the morning. It doesn't matter if it is 4 AM, when I open his bedroom door, he is talking, smiling, singing...
6) The way he says "Hiiiiiii!" or "Hebbo?" (hello)
7) That he loves Brian so much and goes running to him every evening.


Thank you Mommy of Ms for the award!

Our Morning

 

 

Joseph and I ran a few errands this morning, and as we were leaving the last one, I may or may not have suddenly realized that I was wearing:

1) My first-thing-in-the-morning messy bun

2) No make-up

3) A black bra with a white shirt

4) My crocs with hot pink fuzzy socks.

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I don’t know why I didn’t notice sooner.

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Married ain’t dead, Caitlin, it’s time to step up your game a little.

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After all the errands we were a little bored (it is raining, raining, raining outside), so I stripped Joseph down to his diaper, he pooped, and then played on some bowls.

A fairly eventful morning after all.

This is Why I Get Up at 6 AM

 

 

 

                         

 

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And This is Why He Goes To Bed By 7 PM!!!

 

 

                                      

 

 

(I wasn’t torturing him, I swear!  I just didn’t let him hold the camera…)

Number Two

Let me really quickly say that, NO, I'm not pregnant, and no, this post isn't about poop.

Except now it is, kind of.

Because if you search my blog for the word, "Poop," this post will come up.
Ahem.



I have noticed a strange phenomenon in the past six months. Ever since Joseph turned one, people are all up in my business regarding my sex life.

I would say that at least twice a week, I have someone ask when I am going to "have number two" or say that it "looks like it's time for another one!"

Now, I'm not talking about family or friends- you know me well enough to know that I am not afraid to talk about that kind of thing, and that chances are I will call you as soon as that stick turns positive.

I am talking about complete strangers!

In the grocery stores, at parks, at the mall- It's everywhere!

Since when have I become a ticking-baby-making-timebomb?
Since when is it appropriate for "marital relations" to be discussed openly among strangers?

And I never really know how to respond.

Do they really want to discuss this? Are they really wanting to know whether or not we are tracking my cycles, doing x when y says its time, and elevating my hips? (we're not)

Do they really want to know the status of my husband's sperm, my eggs, my uterus, our fertility status? (seems fine, thanks for asking.)

Or do they really just think that my "food baby" might maybe be a "BABY BABY" and this is their way of opening the door for me to say, "You caught me! I'm pregnant right now!" ?

Either way, I'm at a loss.

So, until I AM pregnant and can get all of these people off my back (my uterus?) I will just have to smile demurely and keep fending off questions about "when I am having number two."

(Soon! You nosy, nosy, readers!)