So I was talking to Cary on the phone today while making myself a delicious little lunch. And the first thing you should know about Cary, besides that she doesn't eat "man food" is that she's always super curious about what others eat. Mainly so she can judge them but also because she finds herself in a black bean rut quite often.

So anyway, she asked me what I was making and I said, "a little sandwich spread with some leftover pot roast I have" and she said, "what"? And the 'what' was in this high pitched tone like I had just told her I was eating a baby.

I guess I just thought everyone made sandwich spread with leftover pot roast. Kind of like how my Mom thinks everyone eats corn with spaghetti.

In case Gigi has never sat you down and showed you how to make a really yummy sandwich spread with leftover pot roast--here you go.

You take some left over pot roast and throw it in a Cuisinart or some other food chopping apparatus and toss in some pickles. And onions if you like onions, which I don't. And you blend it up until it is like tuna fish spread. Only it isn't tuna fish spread; its way better. Because it isn't tuna fish, it is yummy left over pot roast. Then you mix in some mayo and maybe a fuzz of mustard. Dash of salt and pepper and boom, Bob's you're uncle and you have a delicious sandwich spread. Although wheat bread is my bread of choice, you just have to have this on really soft white bread. And it is so good with sour cream and onion chips and crunchy carrots. Mmm, and don't forget the diet cherry coke. It is also good on crackers. Or a spoon.

An alternative to this is chicken breast and I think most people just call that chicken salad but whatever.

Would You Like a Side of Mental Imagery With That?

So I am sick. Again. And last night I was in the Urgent Care because I am sick, again, and I knew this was turning into a sinus infection, again, and in the spirit of I don't want another ear infection, I went to the Urgent Care when Jeff got home from work.

And while I'm just talking about being sick let me tell you that my kids have eaten me alive today. Shown me no mercy. Kids 7 Mama 2. They get 7 points for the hours in which they came, saw, conquered and took no prisoners and I get 2 points for the 2 hours I sent them to their grandparents while I slept a wonderful Ny-Quil induced sleep.

Ok, back to Urgent Care. So I'm starting a new Label today called "Things I Don't Like". Here's is the first thing I don't like: sitting on an examination table and coughing so I hard I pee my pants. With the doctor in the room. Not just a little pee. But like wet my pants amount of pee. And it wasn't enough pee that he was calling for a catheter or anything but nevertheless I pee'd my pants at the Urgent Care. And if the sound of my cough, which is a cross between a freight train and a sick, barking dog, wasn't enough to prescribe something with codeine in it the fact that I just pee'd all over his examination table was.

So yes, peeing my pants at Urgent Care or anywhere is else is definitely something I DON'T LIKE.

Praying for Your Kids Monday
Guarding Their Hearts

Sunday night is family movie night at our house and tonight we busted out a "new" movie: The Little Mermaid. Now don't take this the wrong way, I'm not calling for a Disney boycott here but HOLY COW! Seriously, that little Ursela the Sea Witch is enough to scare anyone, not to mention she calls sweet little Ariel a "tramp". Just a little much for the 1 and 3 year old in my house. I think its more Curious George and Toy Story 2 for us for a few more years. There will be plenty of time for sea witches I'm sure.

While putting Emily down and praying she wouldn't have any bad dreams from what she saw I knew this week's PYKM had to be about guarding our childrens' hearts. If your kids are older Disney movies are the least of your problems; perhaps your concerns are video games, peer influence, drugs and alcohol... Pick your age--it will have an area that causes a parent to cringe.

Proverbs warns us, "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life" (4:23). We can help our children by protecting their innocence for as long as we can and that includes being cautious of the things we let them watch and listen to. Taking a page from last week's PYKM, let's make a powerful statement and declare that we will be purposeful in protecting our children and guarding their hearts.

Heavenly Father, thank You for giving me _______________. During this short time that I have to raise him I pray You will guide me and lead me in what I allow him to watch, read and listen to. I pray You would give me wisdom in how to talk to him so that I am not over-bearing. I pray You would pour Your Spirit out on ____________ so that he will have discernment as he grows and he would have a keen awareness of what is not glorifying to You. Amen.

The Hulu Purity Promise

So, maybe I was wound a little tight last night. I don't hate all of you. I mean, I don't hate all of you anymore. Last night the hatred was pretty palpable.

I re-read my original Going all Little House on the Prairie on You post and I love, I mean LOVE that I said I was going to study and blog and clean while not watching TV. Studying, blogging and cleaning is not what I did last night. In fact, last night was the most non-productive night of my life. All I could do was wander around and moan. It was this weird-pain-in-my-side-does-she-have-kidney-stones moan and my family seriously thought I had eaten bad Chinese food. After my family realized I had not eaten bad Chinese food and I did not need to have my stomach pumped they all just went to bed. I think I was instrumental in that putting the kids down process but honestly I do not remember.

After the kids went to bed I kept up with the wandering, blogged that rancorous post and then would randomly get on ABC.com and curse at it. I tried to clean, I tried to study but I couldn't concentrate long enough to make any of it productive. Again, more moaning.

I tried to go to bed before 11:00 but I just couldn't. I was waiting, hoping that at 11, after Grey's had aired on TV, they would post it on ABC.com or Hulu. No luck. I checked every few minutes until 12:30. That's when I finally went to bed and, of course, couldn't sleep. How could I? So many unanswered questions (see last night's post). It was while I was laying there I decided that waiting to watch Grey's on Friday is a lot like waiting to have sex until you get married.

Of course, there is all the hype. For months you're getting the teasers. Then there is the anticipation: is it going to be as good as I've hoped. Will it be worth the wait? There is the Everyone-Else-Is-Doing-It factor, and that right there is enough to make you crack.

Finally, after the sleepless "night before" the time comes and all the exciting foreplay like getting the kids cereal and threatening them with their lives if they disturb you leaves you at THIS moment. This glorious moment in time when the Space Needle comes on screen in a foggy Seattle morning haze and Meredith's voice over begins, "According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross when one goes through a catastrophic loss...".

Let me say this friends: it was worth the wait. It was so worth the wait.

Bitter Beer Face

Can I just tell you how bitter I am? I am so bitter. Every woman in America is watching the Grey's Anatomy season premiere AT THIS VERY MOMENT and I am writing on this stupid blog. I am writing how Hot Jeff and I got all holier-than-thou and dumped our TV and oh-aren't-we-wonderful-parents and we-are-going-to-churn-our-own-butter-and-our-kids-will-be-so-smart-because-they-don't-watch-TV and it seemed like such a good idea in the Summer and it sounded ideal when JANA AVISON lied to me and told me I could stream TV live and now I can't breathe and somebody please come over and here and put me out of my misery because I have to wait until 2:00 TOMORROW to find out how Izzie is doing and why Derek is taking the Chief's job and what is going on with Owen and ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?

At what point when you read we were going Little House on the Prairie on you did you realize that in just a few short months I would be blogging instead of watching Grey's live? And why didn't you come over here and throw yourself in front of the cable box I was disconnecting and tell me that only over YOUR DEAD BODY would you let me disconnect the ONE SOURCE for me to watch the Grey's Anatomy premiere on September 24th?

Upon reading my freak out session on Facebook a friend wrote "Oh Jen, I love your candor. You are so relatable". You know who you are MIA WHITE and for the love of everything holy why didn't you drive over here pick me up and take me to your home to watch it? BETH ARMSTRONG--you are right next door. Can't you hear the screeching? Do you not see the emergency vehicles arriving at my home to give me CPR and pull my gnarled fingers from Jeff's neck? For the record Beth, I was going to march on over there and make you let me watch it but Jeff told me that was "tacky". Tacky? Clearly Jeff hasn't lost all ability to reason like I have because AT THIS VERY MOMENT people across America are watching Izzie stroke George's dead hand as a tear trickles down her cancer stricken, just coded, back from the dead face.

So let me be clear: I hate all of you right now.

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I can't even think clearly enough to write about Samuel's first day of preschool but I will say this: he had a great time and tonight at dinner we got our first preschool lesson. "Mrs. Watson says at snack time we have to sit with our belly to the table". We all sat up straight and pushed our bellies to the table. Well except Roo whose belly is too big. She managed to give us her trademark phrase though, "I'm Buzz" (as in Buzz Lightyear).

No, we are not sending Samuel to some ghetto preschool whose sign is all jacked up. I just blocked out the name on his school so my Mom wouldn't freak out and start sending me emails about pedophiles again.

Jim Croce Said It Best

Samuel starts preschool Wednesday morning and I find that my feelings have gone from "Wahoo, Samuel starts preschool tomorrow" to "Really? My baby starts preschool tomorrow?" Now I know it isn't kindergarten or high school and I know its only 2 mornings a week but it feels like the start of something big. Actually, it feels like the end of something and I can't keep the tears from falling.

I'm a writer which means I inherently hate cliches but I can't help but ask, "Wasn't it just yesterday I was bringing him home from the hospital?"

And maybe tomorrow feels a little sad because I know it is just the beginning of Samuel's journey. I know that when I drop him off tomorrow with his new jeans and shiny backpack it will be just the start of waving goodbyes.

So tonight at bedtime I held him longer than I usually do. I touched his soft skin and buried my head into his neck and let his curly hair tickle my cheeks. I drank in his smell and tried to memorize the way his tiny little body felt in my arms. He asked me, "Mama, you sad?" I answered, "A little bit. A happy sad." He replied, "That doesn't make any sense." and my laughter broke the moment. I kissed him and then made him promise he would call me every day of his adult life. Not knowing what he was promising, he happily obliged.

Again, I wonder, wasn't it just yesterday I was bringing this miracle home from the hospital?

From this....

...to this! Pooping, smiling cowboy at Nana's!

....or this! 'Cars' obsessed cutie.

...or this. My beloved Samuel Edward.