Scoobalicious

My food blog, where I cook something different everyday (except Friday, Saturday & Sunday) is now called Scoobalicious...

Because I used to call my first son this all the time, and although I cannot remember the exact reason, I think it had something to do with Scooby snacks and how much scooby-doo loved them! Yeah, I am weird like that!

I am not publishing it onto the homepage of adventures in motherhood anymore, they will still be syndicated on my main feed, but will only appear within the “yummy” section.

Irony

At the butt crack of dawn, all my 3 kids are already awake.

I try to look at the bright side… I can try to get some work done before breakfast time.

The office welcomes me with open arms… my laptop waiting with fresh blogs to awaken my senses, new emails to start my brain working, and the kids have their toys, although it is debatable whether they really need the extra stimulation!

My husband sleeps while I try to take care of all kids and simultaneously work on starting my web development business, responding to emails, doing some design work, but really, just trying to “keep it together”.

At breakfast time I leave my newly awake husband to work and take the kids down for their meals… I handle the diaper changes, the fights, the crying, the screaming, the running, their insatiable thirst for knowledge and their constant chatter. I sometimes mindlessly answer “yes, honey” to every “why, mommy”, and in my mind I second guess this decision to quit my job, and worry about our rapidly declining financial situation.

At least he takes 10 minutes to make eggs for the kids, and then goes back to work.

The kids finished breakfast and was ready for action… it was 9:30am!

And as I am sitting between the boys feeding them lunch (yes, I still feed them sometimes when I want them to eat good and fast!), and trying to entertain the baby sitting on my lap, knowing that my husband would never be in this position and rarely ever takes care of all 3 kids, I cannot help but ponder a question recently directed to him about his role as husband, “are you getting as much out of this relationship as you are putting in?”

Life as a sock

I think I could be a sock. You know, an old, nasty thing, full of holes, ready for the garbage… that kind of sock.

You know how you put the sock through so much, you walk on it, you put it through the laundry, you sometimes wipe up water from the floor with it, you sweat in it, you accidentally pick up little pieces of muck in it, and then, when it’s all off-white and has holes in it, you curse the sock! Yeah, that’s me… that kind of sock!

You know when you wash a pair of socks, and you mysteriously lose one side, and then you don’t even bother to look for it… you just decide to chuck the surviving sock… that’s me… that kind of sock.

You know how sometimes both socks in the pair are not equal… like one would be a little more worn, or one would have a hole, or one would be a bit more “off white”, and you would look at the partner and think “you remained so good… what happened to your partner?” And some people might even say that the sock was maybe “too good” for it’s partner… well, that partner is me, I am that kind of sock.

Love Thursday & the walk

The not-so-much-a-baby-anymore is walking!! Horay!!

Actually, I didn’t know how much like celebrating I would really feel on this day, I mean, we were a little bit hesitant about him learning to walk… you know, 3 kids running around and all that…

But, no matter how many times you see it, it appears that watching your baby take those first steps is still extremely special and can still move a parent to tears, even if it is the third!

love is all around

I am one of 'those' people!

I think that my husband is a little skeptical about the experiment. Weird, right? I mean… have some faith in me man! I could be wrong, I guess… but today he thought we should have Nandos for dinner… perhaps because he will miss all that lovely grilled, but still juicy, yummyness??

Anyways… before I had kids, I would roll my eyes at parents that came out to eat with their kids, I mean really, were they masochistic… what kind of people would willingly subject themselves to that kind of torture?? Or were they just really cruel parents… why else would people force their kids out to a place where all they did was scream and complain?? And let’s not even talk about how the kids just never ate, and the parents always ended up swearing as they shoveled food into their mouths, so they could rush out the door with their little herd of critters as fast as parentally possible!

But see, the magical thing about being a parent, just like our kids, is that we forget… yes, we forget what happened the last time we took them out, and we forget that we said “I am never doing this again!”

Sadly, I am now that parent, and I knew that every person in the joint was shaking their head at me, rolling their eyes at the baby being fed fries, at the kindergartener who kept standing up and scratching his butt during the meal, and the preschooler who just could not stop singing!

Behold!

I know that it may look sort of calm to you, but everytime I brought out the camera to take some video of the baby, he would shut up…