Jeni Lives and Learns

Note to self:  Do not let your son make French toast for breakfast and chicken soup for lunch and promise your other children pot pie for lunch when you are operating on sub-standard sleep and have a sick baby.  When you are finished with it all, your children will have to deal with a sink of dirty dishes while you hold your baby.  Eggo and Marie Callender’s, anyone? 

Note to self:  Do not try a new pie crust, even one in a famous chef’s book, when you are perfectly content with your own.  It will turn out soggy and ruin an otherwise delicious pot pie.

Note to self:  Make sure the children know the new schedule before taking a midmorning nap with your sick baby.  If they do not know it, they will certainly not get everything done they are supposed to.

Note to self:  Green tea has caffeine, and honey = sugar, so do not make green tea frappucinos sweetened with honey, take an afternoon nap, and expect to go to sleep before 1 a.m.  Because you won’t. 

 

That should do it for the notes.  My baby has a fever of 102, which makes her mellow and explains why she threw so many temper tantrums yesterday.  Those temper tantrums did not go undisciplined, but I’m glad to know she’s not normally that bad.  Now she’s hanging with me on the bed while I type. 

News Flash:  the house in downtown Canton, the house I really, really, really wanted four years ago is for sale again.  Now this is the house the owner verbally agreed to sell to us, and then he went and accepted another offer $5000 more than ours and told us we could enter a bidding war.  Um, no thanks. 

But the man who bought the house turned it into office space, dug a driveway for it, and did a lot of landscaping.  There is (or was) a big sign in the yard advertising office space and it has been sitting empty for 4 years. 

Is it okay if I smirk… just a little? 

I really shouldn’t, because God used the greed of the owner and the buyer for our good, and the house we have is definitely the one we needed to get, but I still dream of that house.  And last night part of my insomnia was dreaming of how we could buy it and make it work with a gazillion kids.  I remember every detail—like the dining room and living room actually big enough to hold our family, the huge bedrooms, the quaint kitchen, the hallway just begging for bookcases to line it, and the putterer’s dream basement.  I remember how Mark could walk to work, how it’s only a few minutes from our new church, how it’s big enough to have people over. We loved the neighbor, too.  Sigh.