STLWorkingMom

This is my friend Greg, aka G-man. This picture is about two years old, taken at a Mizzou game during our tailgating festivities. He’s one of my best friends.

I realized this week that he and I are not talking nearly enough. G lives in Colorado Springs. I miss him and all the opportunities we used to have to goof off and waste time. I met him, along with many of the important people in my life, including my husband, my watershed freshman year at Mizzou. Go Tigers!

My life is peppered with physical comedy. Unintentional comedy. I’m a riot.

I donned my “sassy” dress and my lovely heels and headed off to the St. Louis Magazine fall fashion show. I made a quick stop at a local grocery for a snack or a drink, given that this event was late, and I was early.

Walking across the parking lot, I fell. That’s right, just fell. Didn’t trip, just did one of those banana peel moves, minus the peel and was down on the asphalt, hands and knees in my pretty dress, with a car coming.

Open letter to the driver of the car in the parking lot of Whole Foods Thursday evening:

Dear sir or ma’am:

Thanks for seeing me, and, in seeing me, not running me down, or hopping out and making a scene. Thanks for politely looking the other way, and, after pausing, continuing to drive.

Yours,
Klutzy Girl in the Sassy Red Dress

I got up really fast. Looked, as we are compelled to do, for the Exxon Valdez oil spill that caused my fall, and finding none, beat it into the store. I wandered, pondering options and settled on a cold bottled tea that I held on my knee (now green, purple and lumpy).

I wrote the stuff you really want to know in the Shop Talk blog. Check that out, and if you see my frightfully discolored knee, just politely look the other way.

My kryptonite? Hamburger Noodle Bake.

I’m very proud of myself. This weekend I became organized. I cleaned, did all the laundry, got rid of stuff (still, so much more to go) and actually planned the meals for the week. After that, I shopped (with some sense and direction) and cooked some make-ahead meals to freeze and serve later on. Brilliant, I was! Spectacular Supermom; I positively glowed.

To help my efforts, I consulted Grandma’s cookbook. My husband’s grandma, Mary Jaggers, is a genius-type, ultra experienced cook. She ran a catering business from her home and fed five boys (my husband’s dad and uncles). Everyone agrees she’s an excellent cook. We all received the best gift last Christmas — Uncle Bob got Grandma to write down all her recipes and he published them in an organized book complete with old family photos and notes indicating each family member’s favorite recipes.

Grandma is my kitchen superhero.

I decided to make up her meatloaf (two loaves for the freezer) and her Hamburger Noodle Bake. I also made my sister’s mom-in-law’s Rice Krispy Treats with chocolate frosting — mmmm. So, since after all that brillance, I started to wilt. So I decided to serve the Hamburger Noodle Bake for dinner Sunday evening.

The recipe is simple: egg noodles, hamburger, sour cream, chives, cream cheese, tomato sauce, garlic and cheddar cheese. Not the healthiest meal, but good and a nice hot dinner. (Upon further thought, I’m certain I could change this recipe into a low fat version without much trouble or taste-sacrifice). Anyway, I served it up to my dear family.

Of course, no one but me likes the darn Hamburger Noodle Bake.

I’ve taken the leftovers and stored in individual containers. It seems I’ll be eating it for lunch the rest of the week. I hope they like the meatloaf.

If you’ve run out of money and ideas of what to do with the kids, don’t forget about the library. We had a spare hour this weekend and spent the time browsing and reading at our local branch. I’m embarrassed that it had been so long that we’d taken the time to do that. We carted away quite a haul of books with a guaranteed return visit planned in two weeks.

My daughter, a bit enthralled with the idea of Paris, as many young girls can be, chose several books on Paris including travel guides and a couple of VHS tapes on planning your perfect Parisian getaway. I chuckled, but don’t like to discourage. She’s nine, and if she’s going to go to Paris, I’m going to find a way to get there, too.

After we were home for awhile, my husband spied our pile of library goods on the table, one stack clearly mine, the other, possibly my daughters. He scanned through titles and started to laugh. “Is she planning a vacation?” he wanted to know.

I believe she’ll get there, one day. And darn it, I wanna go, too!

One day! One! Of trading my flip-flops for closed shoes and BAM! fall has arrived. I’d like to be able to say how our family has a color-coordinated calendar with all the extracurricular activities listed, the meetings and playdates highlighted and marked well in advance, but that would be a huge lie. In fact, I’ve just about blown it twice this week.

My daughter’s weekly religion class and Girl Scout meetings started this week and she had to remind me of both. Yes, they were on the calendar (in Outlook, in my PDA, just not in my brain) but when the days actually rolled around I was, as she said, clueless.

If there were a way to synch my brain with Outlook I’d do it, just stick the USB plug in my ear and I’d be ready to go.

I need to know how other working moms are keeping organized. Friends, family and co-workers are constantly exclaiming over my apparent organization but my kids will tell you, it’s a delicate façade.