kdiddy.org

Since I started grad school, there have been certain periods that are more hectic than others. There’s more homework for both the husband and I or a test or a paper is due and conveniently those periods tend to coincide with especially hectic periods at work. During those times, I chuck real cooking to the side and feed my family convenience foods, stuff not purchased from the healthy, whole perimeter of the grocery store, but rather in the bloated and evil middle shelves where the processed and boxed and pre-cooked items that shamelessly flaunt their preservatives and their sodium and their high fructose corn syrup live.

This week we have a perfect storm of food challenges: busy at work, busy at school, taxes for tuition are coming out of my paycheck, and we’ve not yet received our tax refund or heard any word on the student loan that I applied for. So we’re busy and kinda poor (more than usual). Last night we had to go to the store. Not only were we out of dinner options, I was out of contact lens solution, the cat was out of litter (stink), and the baby was out of waffles and dear lord that kid can not go a day without waffles.

Since we weren’t going to get home until about 7:30, I grabbed a boxed, Complete Meal to make for dinner. I started “cooking” that while the baby and the husband worked on homework. The box called for 2 1/4 cups of hot water. I measured that out, then had to pour it out because there was a cat hair in the measuring cup, then once again because I used cold water instead of hot.

Dudes. Cooking is hard.

I decided to add some “nutrition” to our meal by heating up a can of green beans and then we sat down on the couch to watch TV and eat our all-American meal by the light of the Penguins game.

Looking at the bright orange Three Cheese Chicken and the dull green beans, I felt pretty bad I wasn’t feeding them all things fresh, organic, and nutritious. But the baby dug in and turned to me and said, “You cook things the best, Mum.”

And that right there made me feel like Anthony fucking Bourdain. Sure, the food is shitty, but I cook it with love. And that’s what matters.

Plus, we don’t starve to death. Always a good result.

Later, after I started to drool in bed, the husband came in and whipped the covers off of me to “fix” them, since he insists that I don’t do it right. I groaned at the shock of the cold, but in my sleepy state, I felt him lay the covers back down on top of me and then brush the hair out of my face.

I think those guys might keep me around, even if I’m not going to win any Woman/Mom/Wife of the Year awards.

I watched: Waitress, which was cute and I really liked all of the actors, but the plot felt uh, half-baked (snicker); The Darjeeling Limited, which I really liked…”We went on a spiritual journey, but that didn’t really pan out…”; Re-Animator, which The Prestige ripped off hardcore for its cat scenes; the latest episode of The Wire, which just blew my mind and made me cry about three different times.

I made: banana cupcakes with honey-cinnamon frosting. They were very good, though I thought the frosting was a tad too sweet. I’ll probably add more cinnamon next time.

I slept: a total of 18 hours between Friday night and Sunday morning. It was so needed. I actually feel not like death today.

Someone left a box of that new Orville Redenbacher’s Naturals popcorn here. I just tried some of the Buttery Salt and Cracked Pepper variety. It’s pretty good, even if most of the pepper sticks to the inside of the bag.

Which reminds me of reason #65 why my hair is awesome (in that sarcastic sense): when I eat stuff like popcorn or anything that can produce light crumbs, that stuff sometimes falls in my hair, where I fail to notice it. And I will blissfully walk around with half of my lunch in my hair like some crazy slob. Usually nobody points this out to me and I can’t really blame them. I mean, who wants to have a conversation that starts out, “Um, did you mean to put ham in your hair?” which is a statement only a short hop away from, “Are you aware that you just shit your pants?”

Also good: the new Erykah Badu album.

Could somebody explain to me why my son’s school has a 2-hour delay this morning? It’s in the mid-30s and the only thing they’re predicting for today is some rain. If I’m not mistaken, we live in Pittsburgh and rain is kind of a given. I’m left to believe it’s because the school officials exist to screw up my mornings.

…there are no happy endings…

I guess it should, but this story doesn’t make me angry at all. Just sad.

The husband has a new mix up here. The baby and I are listening to it as we assemble skeleton knights for some Lego castle.

Tax preparation went well last night. I called to let them know that we were running late and the woman that I talked to said, “Okay, thanks Kerry!” Then when I got there I was called up by another woman who referred to me as “Kayla.” I’m just going to adopt multiple personalities to go with all of the names that people call me.

The lady who handled us was Russian and kind of awesome. I don’t know if I mentioned this on here or not, but I used to be a ballet dancer and she reminded me a lot of one of the Russian teachers I had when I was little, not only because they had the same name (Valentina), but also because they both had long, intimidating fake nails and odd shades of lipstick.

Anyway, I totally blew the mind of Valentina the tax preparer when I told her that my husband would be joining us in a few minutes and that, no, we didn’t need to wait for him to get started because I am the primary taxpayer. “Well, there’s no ‘Mrs. & Mr.’ categories in our software. Only ‘Mr. & Mrs.’ because not many women are in charge of the money.”

I instinctively straightened my poodle skirt and wondered if the other girls from the typing pool encountered this same problem.

But whatevs. Valentina got us a pretty decent refund AND taught my son how to say “how are you” and “good-bye” in Russian.

We ended not going to the movies because the roads were sucking and the husband’s cold was reaching new, grosser proportions. He sneezed in the car at one point and snot was splattered on the steering wheel, his shirt, and dangling from his beard. It’s really not appropriate in public.

The baby is doing much better today and is just thrilled to be doing shots of that pink, bubble-gum-flavored amoxicillin. I believe his exact words were, “God, I LOVE this stuff!”

It is good and I don’t see why all medicine can’t be flavored that way.

I am also feeling a little bit better. I scolded myself this morning for phoning it in as far as school goes the past few weeks. I know I’m behind, but I don’t know exactly how far behind because I don’t want to look and face the facts. Mature, no? But I’m doing some reading and stuff now…well, aside from this short break to write about how studious I am.

I’m just really burnt out on my bloated schedule. The past few days I had tossed around the idea of dropping a class, but realized that would be pretty stupid since I’m practically halfway through the semester now.

In the fall I’m only taking one “real” class and that will be such a huge relief. Then I’ll take two courses in spring 09, probably another required course in summer 09, one more elective in fall 09 and then I’ll be done. Somewhere in there I have to squeeze in an internship, which will probably end up being some kind of project through my job since my grad program knows that I can’t exactly do an unpaid internship for 3 months. I have a taste for the finer things in life, like eating and having a roof over my head.

The husband and I watched The Crazies last night, which is a George Romero flick from 1973. It’s set and was filmed in Evans City, which is also where he filmed Night of the Living Dead. I’ve always loved NotLD and Dawn of the Dead, but I’m really starting to get into the look and feel of Romero. We watched Martin a few weeks ago, though admittedly I didn’t make it to the end. It was getting late and I find that I get panicked watching movies in which someone breaks into a house because, uh, someone broke into our house. But anyway, that’s not the point. Romero’s films that are set in and around Pittsburgh are so very Pittsburgh. The actors all seem to be fairly local and there doesn’t seem to be any alterations made to the sets.

What is so striking about the films from that time period is that they seem to be plucked from my memories of what Pittsburgh looked and felt like around the time that I was born, when the steel industry was gasping its last breaths and the city was depressed and kind of…stale. Watching those movies I can almost recall the smell. Beer and work boots, metal lunchboxes, and the scent that men have when they’ve been outside. It’s uncomfortable but at the same time pleasingly nostalgic. It’s really hard to describe.

Grunt. I should get back to being a hardcore student.

The baby was up at least three times last night crying due to the pain in his ear. I gave him Tylenol once but the subsequent times he came to me in tears I had to turn him down because I wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed since his last dose due to me being unconscious. I try not to encourage ODs in my kid. I’m a good parent, what can I say?

So, that was kind of heartbreaking. And so was telling him that I wouldn’t be able to stay home with him because I have both of my classes today. Sigh. But the mother-in-law took him to the doctor and he has not one, but TWO ear infections. Amoxicilling we will go.

Oh, but on the upside, my mom stopped by and brought me samosas and they’re sitting next to me making everything smell all heavenly and potato. I’m trying to save them for dinner tonight but drooooooooooooool….

I think the season is really getting to me. I’m so utterly bummed out all the time.

The baby’s situation with his lungs/sinuses is really getting me down. What’s especially frustrating is the fact that we haven’t been able to get in to see his regular doctor so we’ve been seeing this other doctor in the practice and I think he may be a quack. He keeps insisting that the baby has asthma and I just don’t buy that. And last week the baby licked his lower lip a whole bunch and made the skin raw, but the doctor tried to say that it was compulsive, even though it was an isolated incident. I’m starting to sense a drug-pushin’ vibe, but I do watch things like Frontline a lot.

It’s just so frustrating that he was doing so well on the medicine and then like two days after he was done taking it the cough and mucus came back.

And if he does have asthma, what the hell? I keep reading about how our germaphobia is contributing to the rise of allergies and asthma in children and I purposely let him be “dirty” (I’m also lazy and that seemed to help) so that he could build up his immunities and everything. I don’t make him wash his hands every five seconds and I don’t carry hand sanitizer with me everywhere. Now he has allergies and maybe asthma, as well? Augh.

I don’t know. Like I said, I’m extremely bummed out all the time and I don’t want to do ANYTHING. I don’t want to work or go to school or parent or wife. I just want to drink and watch videos all day. I guess that’s not such a healthy attitude is it?

Guess what I did on Friday? It involved wheels and lots of testosterone and patriotism. Indeed, I went to Monster Jam with the husband, the baby, and the sister-in-law.

It was…alright. Certainly, the most interesting part of the evening was the prelude, in which the announcer came out and started paying tribute to all of the firefighters and policemen and “the troops in Iraq who are fighting for our right to be here at Monster Jam tonight.” No, seriously. He said that. That’s why we’re over there. Monster trucks. Now, I’m a cynical bizatch but if I was a soldier and someone told me that I was fighting for a bunch of jackasses to go see monster trucks, I would probably kill a whole bunch of people. Or myself. Of course, they then brought out an enormous flag for the national anthem.

(more…)