Issues with Mondays
Feb 25th, 2008 by Dani
From time to time the day on which I do my supermarket shopping seems to change. I’m not really sure how or why it happens. It just does. Accept it. Currently it’s Monday. Which kind of sucks because I’m having trouble coming to grips with Mondays. It’s a mad flurry of drop Son and Heir at kinder, valiantly fight my way through Ivanhoe Grammar traffic to get to work. Once I get to work it’s a madder flurry of equipment organisation, wet suit donning, Lil Miss throwing into creche and racing back to the pool in time for my first class. No mean feat when the creche opens at 9am and my first class starts at 9am.
Post-work is another series of mad flurries. To make matters worse, somehow, I have forgotten to take underwear to work the last two weeks. Very uncharacteristic and very annoying. So I have to finish teaching, shower, curse at forgotten underwear, dress, grab Lil Miss from creche, race home to don bra because I am NOT running into kinder with the saggy olds flying every which way like it’s their personal challenge to prove the laws of gravity, race to kinder and pick up Son and Heir.
Please excuse yet another inexcusably long sentence. I feel it helps recreate the feeling of haste. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
By the time I’ve done all this, both Ankle Biters are exhausted so it’s home for sleeps and rests. Well not in my case of course, there’s laundry for me and snacks to make and cleaning to do and other housewifely tasks. Logically this would be the ideal time to whip up dinner. If it wasn’t supermarket day. Because I don’t have enough food left for dinner. Because I’m such a gosh darned efficient, waste free shopper.
So by the time Lil Miss is awake and her bum is refreshed from whatever degree of putrid her nappy has rendered it, it’s almost dinner time. So we race to the supermarket with both Ankle Biters in full rebellious whinge mode. Grab the shopping, race home and it’s half an hour past their dinner time. Which does not happy children make.
The best way to reduce the blood shed is to feed ‘em and feed ‘em quick! Which generally means pasta. Duble bonus points for providing their favourite food. Triple bonus points for using up the last of the leftover soup which I dished up with a slotted spoon so as not to bring in too much broth and simply stirred through the drained pasta. The kids loved it.
For the Breadwinner and Myself, also pasta. Far too late now to start on the souffle I planned. Maybe tomorrow. Our pasta is going to be an evil concoction of smoked salmon, blue cheese, baby spinach and just a dash of cream. Real pure cream. None of that hideous crap with vegetable gum in it Oops, did I say crap? Well it is. Not elegant but certainly accurate. Why such a decadent Monday night pasta sauce you ask? Because the salmon and cheese were reduced for quick sale and I couldn’t resist. I’m a bad girl. But you love me anyway, right?
