There are a couple of pictures on my phone that would really help me to tell a couple of stories. Unfortunately, I believe that I left my phone in Bennett’s nursery. And, well, the boy is asleep and I ain’t rockin’ that boat. His door is loud to open and close because it kinda jams.
So welcome to my hodge podge stream of thoughts.
Sleep has been a long, lost dream the last few nights. Bennett? Heavens, no. The boy’s a gem. No, it’s my hound dog, Esther. I think she’s going through a phase. This phase is resulting in her annual 7-10 day needy-fest. Where she normally barely tolerates sleeping at my feet, these days it seems like Esther is trying to become one with my upper body, smothering me and whining at all hours of the night if my back is turned to her. It’s insane. In one hand I’m holding compassion and understanding; the other, a spoon to stir the extra cups of coffee I’ve needed.
In other news, Brian is cooking dinner tonight. When he taste tested/temp tested some of Bennett’s dinner the other night, the mushy combination of veggie flavors and chicken brought him back to his childhood, reminding Brian of his mom’s chicken casserole. It wasn’t but minutes later until he was calling my mother-in-law, scribbling down her recipe.
Bennett might not have the luxury of having a favorite homemade dinner when he grows up. We almost never see the same meal twice (unless you count leftovers). Every time that Brian asks me what we’re having for dinner, my reply rarely varies from, “I don’t know,” as I continue to stir the contents of the skillet. My eyes and nose are my guides and we’re generally making it up as we go along. Hmmmm, maybe Bennett will have a favorite “special occasion” dinner instead.
And speaking of the babe, I know it sounds like I’m exaggerating when I say that I’ve taken the scissor’s to my nine month old’s hair five times already. I assure you that this is no exaggeration. F.I.V.E. times.
#obsessedwiththerattail.
love reading your hodge podge stream 🙂
waiting to hear how the chicken casserole turns out
How about posting Brian’s mom’s recipe for chicken casserole. Can’t imagine what is wrong with Esther. Have you been gone more than usual? Noise in the neighborhood? Poor baby…you and her. Hope all is well.
Oh Esther. I hope she’s okay. Oh and I bet Brian’s mom makes the best dishes!