a blog dedicated to all the things I love about step-parenting


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men - such simple creatures

The other night, we had Robyn's famous rotisserie chicken for dinner. You know, the kind they have conveniently prepared for you at the grocery store. Seriously, why would you want to go to the trouble of actually cooking a chicken when the people at the deli have already done it for you, and they only want to charge you $4??? It's genius!

I took the leftover chicken and mixed it with - get this - eggs and mayo. The next day the Pastor had it for lunch on bread and you would have thought I had discovered the cure for cancer or won the lottery or something. Saint Robyn! The man practically bowed at my feet in praise of the chicken salad sandwich.

I think I may have said something to him like IT'S JUST THE LEFTOVER CHICKEN (which I didn't even cook) and MAYO and EGGS (a combination of three things I don't eat). I'm not doing that any more though, if people don't know any better and think it's so fantastic that I managed to assemble somthing like this, and they want to go on and on about how wonderful I am, I'm going to let them.

Just wait til he sees what I do with tuna.


the mountain goat has shin bruises

Back from va-ca.

Someone should tell the Pastor my idea of a vacation doesn't entail a 140-foot vertical ascent on wooden ladders to see an Indian ceremonial cave, which really just looked like your regular sort of cave to me.

"Friends don't let friends teach their friends how to ski"
That's what the sign at the ski resort said. If I had a sign it would say "Don't let the Pastor teach you to ski." I love him dearly, but his style of teaching (shouting HEELS OUT!! HEELS OUT! PUSH YOUR HEELS OUT!) doesn't really work for me. I really enjoyed skiing, but I would have liked to have hired one of those young, handsome private ski instructors to coddle me and speak quietly to me and hold my hands and say things like "make a slice of pizza for me!" Not a husband who just points and laughs when I'm tangled up like a caught fish in the orange nets lining the ski slope.

Up til 2 a.m. packing and cleaning the night before we left. The Pastor had a speaking engagement at a youth conference on the first part of our trip. One night, I let the girls sit somewhere else while he was preaching, and the next day at lunch we received various reports about what the Pastor's children were doing while he was behind the pulpit. And it wasn't listening to the the Pastor. I asked Loretta what her Dad had preached about and she said "uh, uh, uhhhhhh the Bible?"

Finally able to have "vacation" when the speaking engagement was over. Even though two separate destinations meant I had to pack for two separate locations. Suitcases for our church function, and separate suitcases for our ski trip. The ski trip was the part of the vacation where I got to climb on Indian ladders, take a two hour hike wearing rubber flip flops and "ski." Oh, and when I was hiking in flip flops, a lady walked by and said I must be part mountain goat to be able to do that. How does cute footwear and lack of prior knowledge about hiking turn into me being part mountain goat? Changed hotel rooms at the ski resort, which essentially meant I got to re-pack and un-pack everything again. Then I got to come home and do all the laundry.

This afternoon, I went grocery shopping. Based on this book I just read, America's Cheapest Family, I decided to start grocery shopping for an entire month at a time. Why I thought this was a good idea to do immediately upon returning from vacation is beyond me. I wore my I-Pod while grocery shopping, which I think makes the whole experience much more pleasant. Drowns out all the noise that permeates from the stupid people. However, three separate people chose to ignore my ear buds and approach me with questions, requiring me to remove my ear buds. One about peanut butter, one about bread and one about applesauce. Sure, let me remove my ear buds to help you with your shopping.

Nathan got car sick and threw up six times on the way home, yet this was still the best trip we've ever taken with the kids. Coincidentally, it was the first family vacation I didn't get my period on.

The Pastor wants me to note the kids did learn how to ski from him.


phase one complete

We made it from Abilene to Angel Fire.

I did not care for Abilene.



Now I can add "Cheese Fries" from the Outback in Abilene, Texas to my list below.

I am definitely starting to pick through and look at my food FIRST.


places where I have found hair (not belonging to me) over the course of the past six months where I did not care to have it:

-my hashbrowns
-hot cocoa mix
-package of frozen broccoli
-my salad at a fancy Italian restaurant
-my coffee at Starbucks
-my donut at Starbucks
-in my food at a Korean restaurant, on two separate occassions


I just THOUGHT I was bored.

Then I came to Abilene, Texas.

Now I'm really bored.

Nevermind that I stayed up til two packing EVERYTHING, loading the van and cleaning the house. The only thing the Pastor said to me about packing was "why did you hang these shirts, you should have just folded them."

The Pastor is speaking here at some Nazarenepalooza thing.

The good news is the hotel is in the same parking lot as a Target. Bad news is that it's not one of those Targets that cleverly houses a Starbucks.


walk by my house - I'll toss cheesecake at you

I have finally found my inspiration again. It's amazing how I can find stuff to blog about when I am supposed to be working on our income taxes.

I love living this close to the university. Our dining room faces the street, and college students walk by all the time. When I am at the dining room table, and students walk by, I run outside and offer them random things to eat. Thankfully! I've gotten rid of cheesecake and apple pie that way!

Speaking of cheesecake, just so you know, I am not the only spoiled person in this house. The Pastor decided he liked the cheesecake at On the Border, and sent me to the restaurant supply store to pick some up for him. Seventy dollars later, and I had two giant cheesecakes. We have managed to get rid of one, with me shouting out the front door at random college students.

And speaking of too much cheesecake, there's a biker guy who's been coming to my Weight Watchers meeting. A Harley-riding, black leather, long beard, no-helmet-wearing kind of guy. I think its funny because I just picture big tough biker guy measurig out his portions, counting his points and eating things like 100 calorie cupcakes.

Gotta go. Taxes and packing. Leaving Thursday for Abilene, Texas. If we survive that, then it's on to Angel Fire, New Mexico. Then if we survive that, Santa Fe.


I'm bored.