Cookies for Breakfast

Yes the end of the school year got busy at home and at work and it's finally settling down to a normal pace again. So, ye of little faith, I'm still here. There is a lot that happens in my life that makes me laugh so hard that I snort but I can't post it. I live with all boys.. 2 sons and a husband, some of the hilarity is strictly locker-room and bodily functions and misunderstandings of one or both. Such is my life and so very different than what I had before I met the Hardage men.

Now, anyone who knows us very well knows that it is the younger boy child who tests me the most. The things he's been through already in his short life have seemingly left him needing to be in control of things, knowing every minute what's going on, mostly being in charge of what's going on, being at the center of what's going on and not being told no. Well, I'm the Queen of No. It's a mythical place at times.. a fantasy land where when I say it, it's just simply obeyed and not questioned, sometimes I think this land doesn't exist and my little guy, who is 12, is right there with me, believing with all his heart that it doesn't exist. So after a particularly painful exploration of No, in walks the older one just in time to see his brother crying and being sent upstairs. He laughs a little.

"Here we were, going along with life, doing what we wanted... then we get this strict step-mother.. it's not working out so good for some of us.."

I had to laugh, little guy was safely upstairs, the older one and I had a little moment. We're both the oldest, we understand each other and granted at times I am his advocate and Jim, being a youngest child, picks up the 12 yr old's banner, that race never ends well. But you know, we're only 3 years in, I'm still learning, I think we all are and honestly, many who see us would never know I'm an addition to their family. We function as if we've been together from the get-go and aside from them not calling me mom, most folks have no clue that I didn't give birth to those boys. But oh my sweet youngest child, one day...one day... you too will have one just like you. I am paying for Jim's raising with them, somewhere, someone's paying for mine.

So we went to our favorite little Italian place for dinner Saturday night then afterwards went to get some gelato. We also went and picked out Jim's Father's Day presents, a good night all around. We're on the way home and everyone's laughing and talking and the youngest one is so tickled that when he tries to talk it's slurred...and I say..

"He sounds like a little drunken child.."

Jim hears me but only sorta snickers but little guy, our resident old man with hearing loss who coined the phrase "Frappaweiner"(See old blogs), pipes up.

"I sound like a Moroccan child? What the heck is a Moroccan child?"

Jim and I dissolve into laughter which only serves to make the boys laugh harder and I say, "Noo.. not Moroccan.." but I can't finish cause he's still asking, "What does Moroccan mean? Is that bad?"

Finally I say, "Drunken...not Moroccan.." and we sorta laugh it out then Jim adds, "Morocco is a country, you'd be Moroccan if you were from there."

Older brother has to pipe up and says, "Or...it's a child that just rocks a little more than the others.. More-rockin'..."

On to the reason for the title of today's blog...

An injustice has occurred.. and it's no small infraction, not to a woman. Way back before the bad gall bladder days I was on a diet, and I was doing reasonably well so I've started that plan again. It's mostly a vegan approach, lots of rice and fruit, veggies, starches, very little protein and most of it from beans and peas versus animal proteins. Honestly, I'm pretty ok with it, I love veggies, fruit isn't so bad and I can manage starches just fine. I'm still in denial about how grain-fed cattle oughtta be maybe...animal protein-lite...to no avail, it moos, it's an animal.

First week, unprecedented success, six pounds, count 'em, six. They are doing some construction on campus and they've moved a lass over to my turf for a couple of weeks. Now, it's bad enough that she is blonde and teensie and adorable, but you know, I like blonde, teensie and adorable so cool, a new friend, who wears snazzy high heels and THE cutest outfits. So I wander down to check on her yesterday morning, to make sure she knows where things are, offer help if she needs it but she can't answer me right away and puts a dainty hand up to her mouth while she chews her CHOCOLATE-CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE. She washes it down with REAL COKE and smiles, "Oh thanks!" It took a moment for the tragedy to sink in but as I bit into my banana and grabbed a few pieces of my Kashi Heart Healthy DRY cereal I realized just how wrong that was. I washed mine down with caffeine-free diet Dr. Pepper.. ie.. brown water. I don't like her anymore, in fact I'm not speaking to her till I see her gnawing on the dry, scraggled end of a granola bar. Hmph.