November always seems to be a little slow blogwise. Oh, there's tons of stuff going on, just not much of it blog worthy. Do you really want to read about how I deep cleaned the basement and the kitchen earlier this week? (And how now you can't even tell? Dang children.)
Since we're skipping Thanksgiving this year I've been making Thanksgiving side dishes with some of our meals. Yummy things like hot rolls, stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, corn pudding, etc. I've been thoroughly enjoying it, but the kids have turned their noses up at it all. (Except the hot rolls. No one turns up their nose at Grandma Roper's hot rolls because they are That Good.) This has only confirmed to me how awesome an idea it is to skip Thanksgiving, because I would go through all the work of making ALL THAT FOOD for one meal, only to have my kids ignore all but the ham and pies. No thanks.
Josh has been eating less and less of the lunches I pack for him. I have really been trying to put things in there that I know he likes, but he would still come home with only half of it eaten and starving. (I'm not sending too much food with him, trust me.) Yesterday was the Last Straw. I sent him to school with Life Cereal, yogurt covered raisins, sliced peaches, Goldfish crackers, and milk - all things he really likes to eat.
He didn't eat a SINGLE THING.
I lost it. I was not so nice and I yelled. And then I told him I wasn't going to make lunches for him anymore. I don't like making lunches at all; it's a chore I really dislike. But I do it because I love him. But I'm not going to do it anymore if he doesn't eat! Josh was not happy with this, but he made his lunch this morning. And he put in things that I always put in his lunch: pb&j, apple chips, fruit snacks. He was so excited for this dang and identical-to-the-ones-I-make lunch. Sheesh.
As of Monday I didn't have a single thing planned for this Saturday. As of now I have a list of to-do's eight deep and church obligations from 10am-3pm. All I want to do is snuggle deep in my bed and sleep all day, but that probably has more to do with the fact that I could really use a nap right now.
Tess is two years old and a pill. A sweet, sweet pill. Seriously, cute as a button one minute, venomous pit viper the next. This happens with all of our kids and I have to keep reminding myself it's because they're TWO and not because they're out to get me. (Although I swear that sometimes they really are out to get me.)
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