She probably thinks this blog is about her

Driving home tonight, Special was telling me why she didn't want to be in next week's PE show. They've worked out little routines for all the grades, and apparently her team is not up to par. She said, "Jason* is too talkie-ish. Allison can't do anything and she's SO SLOW. Chris is mean, and Emma does whatever he says. And me? PERFECT."

She did not appreciate my hoots of laughter.

*Names changed to protect the slow, mean and talkie-ish.

We have a deal: Arby's no more than once a month

I have to say, I'm pretty impressed with myself today. I'm usually good about getting things organized for the week by Sunday night--I plan out all my clothes for the week, make sure laundry's done, and bag up snacks and cookies for lunches--because it makes the mornings go much smoother. But today I took it a step further and actually COOKED for the week! Well, maybe not full meals--I'm not a psycho--but I browned two pounds of ground beef, cooked and shredded a chicken, and made hamburger patties and meatballs, then stuck it all in the freezer. I've got a roast for tomorrow (planning leftovers for Monday) and went so far as to chop the carrots to put in the crockpot with the roast!

I enjoy cooking, but when I come home from work the last thing I want is to start a meal from scratch; it just feels completely overwhelming. We've been eating out more and more, and this past week was the worst. This may be the first and last time I ever do this cooking-ahead thing, but I'm hoping it helps during the week.

Unless, of course, I forget to set anything out to thaw. Then one of us will be making that 6:30 run to Chick-Fil-A once again . . .

Office Space

We moved to our new offices today, and I feel like Kramer in that Seinfeld episode where he has a girlfriend downtown and calls it a long-distance relationship. "It's a whole different world downtown-- different Gap, different Tower Records." My stuff is the same, but my furniture and surroundings are completely different. And there aren't any plates in the kitchen! How are we supposed to eat without plates? You know, we're living in a society! We're supposed to act in a civilized way.

My commute wasn't as bad as I expected--exactly one hour from home to work and I took the girls to school on the way. Of course, we left the house at 6:38 am, which is quite the ungodly hour and confusing for Special, who wanted to know why it was still dark out. We may sleep an extra five or ten minutes tomorrow.

In other news, I had a lovely birthday even though it was marked by washing everything we own. I think I did nine loads of laundry yesterday. Batman was afraid the washer was going to break down if I did one more load, but I think it would be more likely that *I* would break down. Lucky for me I have two excellent laundry-folders in the house. Batman is not one of them; he cleans toilets but doesn't fold clothes, and I don't particularly want to trade.

My excellent in-laws took us out to dinner Saturday night at McCormick and Schmick's, a nice seafood/steak restaurant in the Galleria area. One of my co-workers is married to the executive chef there, and he treated us very well--our menus even said "Happy Birthday" on them! The food was excellent; the girls scarfed down the fried calimari even after we told them what it was. Our entrees were delicious, but there was a schmear of pesto on my plate, which unfortunately we didn't realize until *after* Batman had an allergic reaction--those pine nuts get him every time. It was mild, though, and by the time we got home he was able to eat his apple pie.

Thanks to everyone for the cards and emails and good wishes--I *did* have a good birthday, and this year is shaping up well so far. I made myself a chocolate cake yesterday, and the neighbors brought over a lemon pie, and I got two new pairs of shoes and the Seinfeld season 9 DVDs; you can't ask for much more than that when you turn 37.

And then I died. The End.

Guess what the school sent home for my birthday?

**weep**