Domestic Bliss?

Maybe it's because I grew up with a stepmom who only knows how to make Tuna Casserole and microwaveable entrees. Maybe it's because my dad was the cook in the family. Or maybe it's because the "joy" of cooking just isn't when I have a two year old clinging to my legs and a five year old who hates everything I make for dinner (unless it's hotdogs... I make a mean hotdog!) Whatever the cause, I have grown to dread the chore of planning and cooking dinner!

I've tried to remedy this by planning and preparing a month's worth of meals. That gets old- fast! I tried out one of those places where you make the meals there and take them home and store them in the freezer. This was great until I realized how much weight my husband and I were gaining. I even contemplated the feasibility of eating out everynight. Not feasible!

So yesterday when my oven made a strange "pop" sound and the heating element changed from red to black while cooking chicken nuggets, I declared to my husband that our oven was dead. D-E-A-D, dead. I realized that with this announcement, I felt a sense of joy. There was even a sense of victory. Why? Afterall, ovens don't grow on trees and it's not like we're rolling in dough, so I don't really look forward to the expense of replacing it.

I'm pretty good at being honest with myself so I realized that I was happy about the oven keeling over on me because now I am off the hook! Picture me in a June Cleaver dress, while I call my hard working husband: "Sweetie, can you please pick up some dinner on your way home from work? I planned to bake this wonderful meal but, as you know, our oven just doesn't work. Sigh" Visions of guilt-free, non-homecooked meals lifted my spirits greatly! Ahhh... sweet release.

As it turns out, we don't need to replace the entire oven- just the heating element. That's good for the budget. The news gets even better: My husband had to order the part on-line and since he wanted to save money, he ordered it via standard delivery. The replacement part isn't expected to arrive until next Monday. I'm sure it will take a couple more days for Matt to find the time to replace it.

Let's see... there's Chinese, pizza delivery, Filippi's "Tueday Special", Rubio's, frozen yogurt, Submarina Sandwiches... so much take-out, so little time. Sigh. Oh, what's a sweet, little housewife to do?

Cinquains by Me

What are cinquains? Cinquains are a type of poetry. Basically, there are five lines. The first line contains 2 syllables, the second line= 4 syllables, the third line= 6 syllables and- you guessed it- the fourth line= 8 syllables. The last line goes back to 2 syllables.

Please note that this information varies, depending on where you look. The following poems are based on the above description. Give it a try- it's fun!

Lights

I love
when you smile.
Lights grow dim compared to
the illumination you send
to me.

Windows to Me

See me:
Transparency.
Can you see how I feel?
I hope you do. I hope you don't
see me.

Expectations

I know
I'll never be
who I want me to be.
Useless are my efforts to be
perfect.


On Wings Like Eagles

You don't
need me to be
what is impossible.
In my weakness, I find Your strength.
I soar.

Why?

Why is the sky blue? Why does Daddy work? Why do I have to take a bath? Why is the moon out when it is daytime? Why do I have to sleep? Why is is Target called "Target"? Why don't you home-school me? Why can't Daniel come out to play? Why do they have a cross on our church? Why don't you have a penis? Why do you wear makeup? Why do you shave your legs? Why can't I have candy for breakfast? Why are your boobies squishy? Why can't I hit my brother? Why can't we go to England to see the castles? Why are there no more Pirates? Why can't I watch the news? Why do we need to go to the bank? Why is that man fat? Why can't I drink coffee? Why do you drink coffee? Why are you tired? Why don't you get enough sleep? Why do you need some Mommy alone time? Why do you say you are going crazy? Why do you wonder if I can stop talking for 2 minutes? Why are you calling Daddy to see when he'll be home? Why, why, why, why...?

Just another day in paradise for a Mommy of a five year old boy.