Note to self: Do not attempt to cook breakfast, clear the table, fill a glass, or otherwise enter the kitchen if a full night's sleep has not been had.
This morning I had the bright idea to fix pancakes. We haven't had a hot breakfast in a couple of weeks and gobs of syrup on bread sounded delicious. I enjoy making pancakes from scratch, but thought it would be an excellent idea to triple my recipe and freeze any leftovers for a future rush-rush sort of day. This in an of itself is no big deal, as I double & freeze recipes all the time. Amidst the chaos of a 1 year old begging to "ee! ee! mi! mi!", a 3 year old begging for "e-oh," a 7 year old planted firmly in front of a computer playing Riven, and a barely conscious 12 year old draped across the sofa, I got busy in the kitchen. I measured, I counted out loud, I carefully moved my ingredients from the left side of my space (the "unused" side) to the right side (the "used, but better check" side), and I mixed. The griddle was hot, the cakes were poured and all was right with the world.
Until I served them. Our Fearless Leader grabbed a pancake and began to prepare it for the 1 year old. Now, being fearless, he knew that all pancakes must be tested (read that: Leader eats first and then slaves over a hot stove so Mominator can eat hot food, too). The look on his face as he insisted that I try a bite myself was pained. They were awful, much to my dismay. I will say here in my defense that I am a darned good cook. I can even make a good cup of coffee despite the fact that I never, ever drink the stuff. However, today's pancakes were eventually likened to the cooking experimentation of Lane's mom in the movie Better Off Dead. Do you remember the scene when the blob of dinner actually moves off the plate... by itself?
Ok, the batter didn't actually harm any of the children, but it did nearly foam out of the bowl. Why, you ask? In looking at the right side of my space, I realized my fatal error - baking soda. (For those not in the know, baking soda is not interchangeable with baking powder. I actually know this quite well and have my containers clearly marked with labels from my beloved label maker.) I had tripled my pancake batter with baking soda. I ran to the computer to look up substitutes in the hope of salvaging my visions of a hot breakfast dripping with syrup. I found a recommendation for using 2 parts cream of tartar to 1 part soda. Perfect! Except that I had now tried to bake at least 8 pancakes and the batter was obviously reduced in volume. I guesstimated at the cream of tartar, added it and began cooking again. I freely admit that I should have given up hope at the first pained expression on Our Fearless Leader's face, and he will likely now fashion a Breakfast War Story in which I am trying to poison him. He might be right. I don't think I'm mad at him for any reason, but the batter possibly could be physical evidence to the contrary.
The batter foamed to an interesting consistency after the cream of tartar was added. It is at this point that Our Fearless Leader made the movie comparison and the 12 year old tried to console me by saying that at least the batter hadn't blown up. Actually, had there been a lid on the bowl, it would have. I know a chemical reaction when I see one.
Breakfast was dumped in the trash. We now had about a cup of milk in the house, so cold cereal was not an option. I did manage to scramble a sufficient quantity of eggs and the 12 year old made toast. I'd like to think that he was simply being helpful, but in my heart of hearts, I truly believe he was afraid of what might happen if I operated a small appliance.
You would probably not be surprised to find out that I currently have a load of wash going... without laundry soap. Nor will you be surprised to discover that when I cleared the dining table, I managed to drop the salt shaker - dumping about a half cup of salt all over the kitchen floor.
The day is young and I am strangely afraid of the havoc I may cause yet. I am terribly thirsty and filled with fear and trepidation at filling my glass. What if I need to fill the ice trays as well? Is there any hope for me?
Slip on my shoes and walk a ways down the road of life.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Must Be January
It's that time again. The hustle and bustle of preparing for Christmas is long over. The excitement of Christmas itself has run its course. I look at the calendar and think it's time to crack the whip again and get our homeschooling back on track.
And, as usual, I'm completely unmotivated to do anything but want to change everything. I don't really know what it is about January, but this seems to run through most of the homeschooling families I know. All of the sudden, we're swamped in ordinariness, overwhelmed by the task still before us, and just generally pooped.
Eh. I'm nothing if not consistent. So to everyone experiencing the January Blahs - I salute you, I hug you and pray for joy to find you again.
And, as usual, I'm completely unmotivated to do anything but want to change everything. I don't really know what it is about January, but this seems to run through most of the homeschooling families I know. All of the sudden, we're swamped in ordinariness, overwhelmed by the task still before us, and just generally pooped.
Eh. I'm nothing if not consistent. So to everyone experiencing the January Blahs - I salute you, I hug you and pray for joy to find you again.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Ahem!
Found today:
1 destroyed train track
1 shredded Bible study notebook
5 Bible tabs
1 bent Bible
1 Wonder GIRL
1 destroyed train track
1 shredded Bible study notebook
5 Bible tabs
1 bent Bible
1 Wonder GIRL
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