Posts Tagged "cookies"

And Reality Begins to Set In

Dear Kid,

countdown to college move in 3“Who wants to help me make cookies and then go for a long walk?” your sister asked.

Not a completely unreasonable suggestion (for it was more suggestion than question). Except that it was already 9:15pm when she asked.

In between watching the Olympic races (mostly swimming at that hour), Dad and Pi baked 4,892 chocolate chip cookies. Dad announced every few seconds that this was the first time he’d ever made cookies from scratch. It was kind of a sport in and of itself: mix cookie dough, race back into the family room to catch up on the Olympics, race back to the kitchen before the dough is overmixed, yell to find out who the announcers are talking about, scoot the cookies in the oven, pray that the next race will end prior to the timer going off. You get the picture.

By the time Pi and I set off for a walk it was next Tuesday. Who goes for a walk at 11pm? Your sister that’s who. Who thinks it’s a good idea to go for a walk at 11pm when it’s raining and the humidity is about a zillion percent? Your sister that’s who. And who accompanies her? You got it on the first guess.

We had took the Puppy with us on the first lap, but then he was smart enough to want to go inside where it was dry, there was a comfy pillow to sleep on, and someone might be talked into giving him a treat.

Pi and I and our umbrellas continued to walk. Our Fitbits appreciated it. We also got a bit of time to catch up which is always nice and frequently entertaining.

Today’s plan (if she ever decides to wake up) is a mad dash to get her ready for college.

Yikes! My baby goes to college this week.

I’d best go lie down for a bit.

Love, Mom

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My Body and I are Arguing Again

Dear Kid,

My body and I are arguing a lot these days.

Marie Antoinette was never on a diet. DearKidLoveMom.comBody: Let’s eat cake!
Me: No.
Body: Let’s eat cookies!
Me: No.
Body: Let’s eat chocolate!
Me: No.
Body: Remind me again why I hang out with you?


Me: Tell the fat cells to go.
Body: Not so much.
Me: This is an eviction notice for the fat cells.
Body: But they live here!
Me: That’s the point. They are no longer welcome.
Body: I think I’ll keep them anyway.


Me: Get up and get moving.
Body: I got up and got moving yesterday.
Me: We have to do it again.
Body: I beg to differ.
Me: It’s not really optional.
Body: Yeah? Just try moving without me.


Body: I hurt.
Me: You don’t hurt. We went to the gym yesterday.
Body: I hurt.
Me: You feel energized.
Body: I think we’re using a different dictionary.


Body: It is time to eat.
Me: We just ate.
Body: It is time to eat again.
Me: It is time to clean the kitchen.
Body: My idea is better.
Me: True. But…
Body: So we eat!
Me: No.
Body: The cookies are tempting….
Me: Yes, but…
Body: We could just have one.
Me: Now I know you’re toying with me.

Love, Mom

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Wrangling the Wild Paperwork

Dear Kid,

It’s paperwork day.

Actually, it’s make cookies, go to a meeting, consider going to the gym, cook for the week, clean up the kitchen, brush the dog, write some blogs, and paperwork day, but it’s the paperwork that I am determined to confront head on.

The rest of it will happen. Probably. But the paperwork is likely to resist being completed.

Papers resist all efforts to corral them into one place. Their collective weight is like that of a black hole, just sucking energy from the surrounding area. DearKidLoveMom.comHave you ever tried to wrangle paperwork you’ve gotten behind on? Wild west movies and the stampede in the Lion King don’t prepare you for taking on the inertia of sulky paperwork.

First, the papers resist all efforts to corral them into one place. Their collective weight is like that of a black hole, just sucking energy from the surrounding area.

The paperwork raises baby papers (receipts and other small items) to act like spies and infiltrate seemingly benign piles of paper. They learn to hide, to blend in with the local scenery (You needed that scrap of paper? I recycled it last week!). The paperwork as a whole is strong enough for advanced mind control techniques (“Where is the receipt for X?” “I gave it to you.” “Nope, you didn’t.” “Well, I dunno.”).

Once you convince the majority of the papers to Sit! Stay! they call in reinforcements called “distractions.” (MOM!! The timer just beeped! MOM!! Can you help me with this? Sweetie! Phone is for you! Mom—rub my tummy!)

Some distractions are easier to ignore than others.

An amazing thing happens though once you record the important information and file each piece of paper. An amazing calm settles over each little scrap and each page. Once in their assigned folders, they stop calling out for chaos in the world and move to a life of retired peace.

It’s our job to help them move on to this happier state.

And today, I’m determined—bound, set, and determined—to make progress.


After the cookies.

And a few phone calls.

And a tummy rub for the puppy.

Love, Mom

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Grocery Store Protocol (Do You Know About This?)

Dear Kid,

I went grocery shopping last night. Kroger’s policy is that once you hit the checkout line, they want to help you give them your money and get out of the store quickly (before you can reconsider whether you need 2 more boxes of coffee K-cups or that box of chocolate chip cookies). Speed at that point is good.

How come coffee never looks like this in my house? DearKidLoveMom.comWho am I to argue with such a noble cause? I was wearing 4 inch heels, so I was ready to go home.

So I put the groceries on the conveyer (yes, I also really needed two kinds of new treats for the puppy), handed over my frequent shopper card, and ran my credit card through the little machine. All speedily to keep up with the program.

While I ran the cards and chatted with the cashier (making sure she didn’t charge me for two boxes of the new kind of tea I decided to try instead of the one I wanted [she didn’t, but you never know]), the bag boy bagged the groceries.

“No, no” the environmentalist within me woke up from her nap to notice the bagging. I’d only brought in one reusable bag (my inner environmentalist has got to get better at putting bags in the car) and the groceries (yes, I really did need two packets of lamb to make stew for Dad and Pi) didn’t fit in the one bag even after I put the tp directly in my cart. The bagger had finished plastic bag number 1 and moved on to plastic bag number 2. “No, no, just put as much as you can in the first bag.” Inner Environmentalist didn’t think the bagger limit of two items per bag was quite right.

Zip, zip, the cashier handed me my receipts and coupons (for things I will never buy) and off I went.

It wasn’t until I got to the car that I realized that the bagger had carefully triple bagged the groceries for me.

The best laid plans.

Love, Mom

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Saying Goodbye Sucks (Did I Say That?)

Dear Kid,

Saying goodbye is not always my favorite thing.

There are times when I look forward to saying goodbye. Saying “Goodbye” to a sports opponent can be lots of fun (with or without the na-na-nah-nahh, hey hey). Saying goodbye to a cold is always good. (BTW, you really should get a flu shot.) Saying goodbye to one of Dad’s ripped-to-shreds t-shirts is a rare joy.

And saying “Good Buy!” when finding a great pair of shoes is one of my all-time faves.

But saying “goodbye” to a friend you don’t get to see frequently enough is not joyful.

There is no doubt that it beats the alternative (not getting together at all) by many light years. But it’s still hard and sad.

Tim and Nancy left this morning. It took a while to convince Booker that the suitcases did not belong to us, that I wasn’t going anywhere, and that was safe to return to eviscerating his toy bear. It took longer to convince me that the world would continue on its appointed rounds.

The world is much smaller than it once was. We have cars, and airplanes, and telephones, and Skype, and blogs, and all sorts of wonderful things to keep us in touch. But it’s not the same as getting together in the kitchen to make cookies (yes, I put some in the freezer for when you’re home).

Saying goodbye can mean a lot more than “see ya, dude.” We can pack a whole lot into one little “goodbye.” It’s easier than trying to say all the things we mean.

Send a text to someone you haven’t seen a while and make their day.

Love, Mom

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