Sunday #10: I Work and I Slave.

Oh wait, no I don't. I Smirk and I Laze! That sounds right.

So, last Saturday we had a great-big birthday party at a bowling alley. There were 11 kids total and over half were from Simon's class. Simon has been behaviorally segregated for some years now, and it was a very interesting to see a whole group of kids that were more like Simon. Everyone had a great time and it was awesome, but Saturday exhausted me.

And Friday night I spent cake-baking:

Cake: Simon approved.



Hello sugar, hello lard. We meet again.












Naturally I started Sunday out being pretty tuckered - and also still full of pizza. Because Saturday, before we even had birthday cake we had super-cheesy, awesomest-ever bowling alley pizza. Pizza that we brought home and finished up for dinner.

So, for reasons that should be obvious, we decided that Sunday Dinner should be something not so hefty.

It was soup and salad.

Just like at Sizzler, except we all got our own plate.

That's just a salad bar up there. It's pretty bountiful, egg, apple, cheese, olives, cucumbers, ham, chicken, etc. etc - but I didn't really make anything. All I did was chop stuff up. I changed texture in some cases, but not composition. This isn't really cooking.

"But... you made the soup, right?"

Sure did!

I didn't even have to add water.

Cooking skillz: I has them.











Okay, so I chopped up salad ingredients and dumped soup out of a tub. That's not really cooking for the family. That's slopping the family.


Like so.














But hey, I did make bread!



Slicing bread is sort of like making it - like making it be sliced! Go me!

Okay fine, I didn't do anything. Unless you count hard-boiling eggs. Those turned out fabulous, by the way. I'm sure I'll never be able to manage it again, but the yolk was just cooked through, and there was no greeny sulfur funk ring either. They were yummy in my sandwich the next day.

And the Salad was good. 

But it was, you know, salad.

I guess it was nice to have some vegetation, especially after the sugared lardwad that we'd feasted on the day before, but there was nothing thrilling about this.

And the Sunday Soup?
A couple were okay. The one I picked out was flat out gaggariffic. It was Coconut Chicken Curry if I recall correctly, and it was vile. I ate just salad. Oh, and bread - a quarter loaf of soft and tasty bread.

So, I guess this "meal" served to remind me that this is not what I want out of my culinary existence. It's not what I want to feed my children either. Just because I do feed them garbage on a semi-regular basis, doesn't mean I want them to think that it's the good stuff. I don't get each of them a McDouble cheeseburger and feel great about being a provider.

There was nothing in this meal I wanted. Nothing on that whole table was exciting. I think that comes from not really putting anything into it.

Getting better foods (actually better foods I mean, not Kraft lowering the sodium by 2% and calling it a "better for you" food. That's bullshit, that is) inside us and making use of real food (instead of whatever slop the industry will pre-package for us) is a little of what getting the Full Circle produce box is about.

Not that I don't eat plenty of slop - and enjoy it - but that's a topic for another day.


Oh, Max ate a carrot. That was exciting. 

and he loved it.

That's the face that says "MmMMmm, Mom, I love it!"  right?

Yeah? I thought so.

There was ONE Carrot.



See, Max asked for Chicken Noodle Soup. He was expecting Campbell's, he got Safeway Select. It has some chunky chicken chunks and noodles in it. It also has visible pieces of carrot, onion and celery. That wasn't going to fly.

So I strained his soup and picked out only chicken and noodles, replaced the broth and then gave him the one lonely carrot.

No, no, no. I'm not enabling him. I'm - I'm... yes, that's it! That word! Over there! It's that strong word that boasts of all my motherly goodness. I can't quite make out what it is, but I'm pretty sure it means I'm awesome and that putting one carrot in my kid's bowl is a sign of culinary genius.

Yup, whatever that missing word is, it's what I'm all about! Not that other enabley type word though, forget about that one, it's all sorts of wrong.

Whatever else it might have been, the meal was Simon Approved.

But then, what isn't?
Thanks, buddy.

Next Sunday we may find ourselves at home, in the calm after the Roller Derby storm that I'll be visiting on Saturday.

If so, we'll be having porkchops and roasted root vegetables.

Otherwise, we'll end up visiting Mark's folks, in which case I'm bringing roasted veggies anyway, because I have tons and his mom likes them.

Aaaand I'm all caught up! Yay me!