» 2010 » November my-speck

Will to cook… November 10, 2010

Filed under: Parenting — rakster @ 3:26 pm

Hello!

No updates for so long. My life has been consumed with work, swimming lessons for you, and trying to get the kitchen renovation organised and over the line. Well, started at least.

And we are getting there. Next week we start on some cupboards and the week after the old one gets pulled out, the new one gets put in a few days after that, and then it should be all good to use!

And I am looking forward to regaining my “will to cook” which I’m assuming will be influenced in no small part by my “will to not have to do thousands of dishes by hand”… Read: the installation of a dishwasher in our house is going to be a godsend.

I’ve been reading my food blogs and dying to try out a bunch of recipes. Then I go into my kitchen, look at the seemingly endless pile of washing-up and then think, ah, mexican beans for dinner it is (yes, still home-cooked and full of goodness, but a simple straightforward, one-pot meal), or better still I come up with a plan for dinner, get the ingredients and then leave your dad to cook it …. Which he most frequently does with amazing good humour and grace (best husband ever, I am sure of it).

In the meantime we just have to pack the entire old kitchen and it’s contents up, get the walls in the kitchen re-sheeted, fix the leaking roof (it was fixed but it leaks again…) and try to see a bunch of family and friends before Christmas holidays.

And keep up with your swimming lessons…

Easy peasy.

love and kisses. mum

So I’m not redundant… yet. November 1, 2010

Filed under: Parenting — rakster @ 5:18 pm

So last week on Thursday I had to pop down to Sydney for a night for work, and it wasn’t until I was sitting on the plane that I realised it was the FIRST night I was going to have away from my little Mr Boopie (you. another nickname, favoured by your dad).

I’d told your Dad it would all be fine (and I was sure it would be). I wondered quietly to myself if you’d miss me, or in fact even notice that I was gone. … (read, I almost cried when I realised I would be away from you, then in the next breath relished a guaranteed full night of uninterrupted sleep in my lovely big hotel bed).

… So I went, and I returned, and you were all in one piece. It wasn’t until a day later that your dad and Aunty Reegs admitted there had been an incident which proved you missed me. Or at least missed my boobies. (more…)