I Guess I Bought The Wrong Flavor

Today was day sixteen of summer vacation.

It was the first really rainy day since the kids have been out of school, and after two weeks of sun and outdoor swim practices and a few late nights and a nine-hour-long 4th of July party the other day, we were all in need of a lazy, indoor day out of the sun.

So I was grateful for the rain.

On an unrelated topic, I  stopped buying a lot of processed foods a couple years ago.

At first I pretty much cut out everything. No cereal. No crackers. No chips. No Goldfish.

I started making stuff from scratch. Like real macaroni and cheese. Not the fake, neon mac and cheese from a box.

It was delicious.

But my kids acted as if I had presented them with a bowl full of flesh eating bacteria. Or poop. Or both.

So the kids were having Kraft withdrawals.

In addition, all adults in this house were not completely on board with the no-processed-food-at-all decision.

Plus, to be honest, I’m not organized and efficient enough to do 100% whole foods and stuff from scratch yet.

But it is still a goal of mine. One day I’m gonna get there.

So anyway, I do buy some processed stuff now. But not near as much as I used to.

A couple weeks ago, in a moment of desperation, I bought a big ass package of Kraft mac and cheese at Costco. There are like eighteen boxes of that garbage in that big pack.

When I got home, the kids saw it and exclaimed, “YES!!! THE GOOD MAC AND CHEESE!!!”

They seriously call that shit the good mac and cheese.

On another note, having all the kids home all day during the summer, not being able to afford a babysitter, and having quite a bit of work to do from home, I have had to get creative with how I make time to get anything done.

I normally get up fairly early, usually by 5:45 on school days, but for the last sixteen days, I’ve been getting up between 3:45 and 4:30 every morning. That gives me at least two hours every day before the first kid wakes up and before I have to get ready to go to swim practice.

Now that I’m used to getting up that early, I actually really enjoy it. It’s quiet, and I can enjoy a cup (or three) of coffee without being harassed, and I can watch the sun rise right out of my office window.

But I am definitely tired.

Today with the rain and nothing on the calendar in the afternoon for anyone (minor miracle), I decided I’d give myself the gift of a nap.

I had swim practice this morning until 9:15. By the time I got home it was close to 10:00.

I was soaked and cold from coaching in the rain, so I changed back into dry and comfy pajamas.

I did some laundry, cleaned up the kitchen, and did a couple other things around the house.

I had decided on taking a nap right after lunch. That way the kids would be fed and I’d at least eliminate nap interruptions because someone was starving to death.

I didn’t want to deal with a huge lunch production either, so I baked some brownies, made two boxes of everyone’s favorite, fake, chemically loaded mac and cheese, nuked some hot dogs, and pulled some watermelon out of the fridge.

Even if nobody actually ate it, the inclusion of an actual fruit made me feel okay with what I’d given them to eat, and nobody would complain about brownies, hot dogs, and mac and cheese.

They’d all be happy, eat a bunch of junk and hopefully a little bit of watermelon, and not need anything to eat for at least a couple hours.

When their mostly processed lunch was ready, I called everyone into the kitchen.

Number 6 saw what I’d made and immediately responded with, “I HATE THAT MAC AND CHEESE.”

What. The Fuck.

Somewhere in the last sixteen days, Number 6 had decided the good mac and cheese is now the bad mac and cheese.

In addition, he also now hates hot dogs which were on his list of Top 10 Favorite Foods up until about 47 minutes ago.

I told him that was what I’d made for lunch and he didn’t have to eat any of it, but I wasn’t making anything else until dinner time.

He ate a few bites of mac and cheese. Then he asked for a brownie.

I was so tired and I was so close to my nap.

In an effort to ensure at least a solid hour of sleep, I gave him a ridiculously huge piece of brownie. I knew it was more than he’d be able to eat.

He didn’t finish the brownie because he was full. Mission accomplished.

I told everyone they’d need to occupy themselves for the next hour and a half and not to bother me because I was going to take a nap.

I lay down on the bed and was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

It was magnificent.

For about 40 minutes.

That’s when Number 6 came barreling into my room.


I repeated what I had said before. I wasn’t making anything else to eat until dinner time.


Having just been awoken from a peaceful sleep, I was a little slow on the uptake.

All I managed to do was sigh heavily and roll over.

“FINE! I’ll go make something for myself!” he yelled.

And he stormed away.

So we have reached that glorious stage of vacation where meal times have turned to snack time, snack times have turned to mealtimes, hot dogs are inedible and mac and cheese tastes like vaginas.

Only 54 days until the first day of school.

Look cute while you manage the chaos. Click here.



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