Tales from the Carpool Lane

So it's been a while since I've felt like posting anything on the blog. I've started several posts that went something like: "I'm sick and I'm whiny and my husband is out of town and woe is me," and then I've just deleted them because they were boring even to me, and I've lived it. So the gist of it is, I was sick. So sick, in fact, that I went to the doctor (which I never do) even though the only appointment was right after school and I had to take all three kids (which I would never do in my right mind). That's pretty sick.

I had myself a right nice little pity party, complaining to everyone who would listen that I wanted to call in sick, but I couldn't, that I still had to take care of the kids and cart them to soccer practice and games and such, and whine whine whine whine my husband keeps calling to tell me how beautiful Boston is in the fall whine whine whine whine I want a vacation.

But I survived, and thankfully my children did, too. I fed them bananadillas every night for dinner, and they were in heaven. What's a bananadilla, you ask? It's a tortilla filled with peanut butter, a few chocolate chips, and slices of banana, and heated in a skillet. Served, in this case, with a side of Doritos.

Now you know why I never publish recipes on this blog.

So the end of the story is I slept all day Sunday after Greg got home, and Julie took Katie for the day so I slept all day today, too, and the world seems to be a much brighter place now. I'm even planning on cooking an actual dinner tonight, one that involves vegetables and meat.

Another thing that helped my perspective was that on Sunday, our church was celebrating Missions Week, and they had set up a replica of a street in India where we support a school for pastors. At the end of the exhibit was a life-sized replica of one pastor's house, where he lived with his parents, wife, and two children. It was one room, about 9 by 7 feet. The same pastor, whose photograph was hanging from the wall, has recently been beaten for his faith. Greg and I did the same thing at separate times that day, looking at the kids and saying, "Now aren't you thankful for our nice big house? Hmm? Aren't you glad we have freedom of religion here? You should be."

So that was a good reminder to myself that maybe needing a vacation and getting a cold isn't the worst thing in the world. I'm hoping I'll keep that perspective later this week when my husband goes out of town AGAIN.