Being a SAHM you'd think that every day would be the same.
But Mondays are usually where I put the highest expectations.
Get laundry started.
You know...a fresh start to the week.
I woke up before both kids. Awesome.
Ate breakfast alone. Double Awesome.
Then I stared down the three ice cream pails full of fresh tomatoes and the large bag of onions sitting beside them.
"I should do something with those" I thought. "Before I add to the exponentially growing population of fruit flies already taking up residence in my kitchen.
After five minutes of hip-hop abs (hey, its something). I thought I would begin a batch of canned spaghetti sauce.
Reading the recipe I discovered I needed tomato paste. Garbage! I don't have any.
Enter five minutes of researching substitutes. Alas! I can boil down canned tomato sauce to make paste! Easy Peasy!
Darn you internet...making things seem so simple.
What was supposed to take 7 minutes of a gentle simmer...ended up taking at least 30 minutes at a rapid boil...and resulted in large amounts of red sauce splattering my kitchen like a crime scene.
Okay..paste done. Now to chop onions.
Onions make me grumpy. I usually end up with massive amounts of tears ruining my makeup.
ok ..fast forward to all the ingredients boiling in a pot. (I am skipping over when I had to break up a few dozen "big brother pushing little brother over" situations.)
Enter: niece and nephew are dropped off. Chaos ensues. I should really by at least four of all the toys I have. That would definitely reduce the number of arguments.
I just get the sauce canned, bathed and sealed, clean up the kitchen, and wipe down the puddles of tomato sauce that rained all over my kitchen floor. I light some candles to try to reduce the onion smell that has encompassed every corner of the house again. (I did salsa last week and my hands smelled for 8 days!)
I take a deep breath. One babe is napping, the three others are playing unusually quietly. Perfect chance to make a cup of coffee.
I don't know why I did it..but I did.
On my way to the coffee maker I steal a glance at the clock. 11:44. Shoot! There goes my coffee time. Its already lunch time.
I get through it. The hot dogs on the floor, stepping on some grapes, cake smeared on bare tummys. A painful hour of persuading them to clean up the toys with the promise of Backyardigans.
So as I sip my now slightly chilled coffee, catching up on emails, I take a deep breath reminding myself that I can get the rest done tomorrow.