Heh, that reminds me of my S-i-L's insistence that her kids NEVER see several pablumic kidzshows like the Smurfs and Teletubbies. Not because necessarily she thought they'd be hurtful as much as not-helpful, but she was damned if she'd have to listen to them in the background.

They are turning out to be fine young men, so clearly she is onto something. (She's also the one who came up with Toy Jail.)

We were not allowed to watch The Smurfs as kids. I have no idea why.

I am pretty sure, however, that most of the kids we thought were our friends were just so besotted with my mother's cooking that they needed an excuse to keep getting invited over for dinner.

God, I wish I lived closer so I could have more home-cooked meals (I don't cook, the Army ruined that for me).

I never ate particularly well as a kid...I ate a lot of hot dogs...but we never had enough money for my mom to indulge our needs for spaghettios or beefaroni. And my own natural aversion of Kraft Dinner kept me away from that.

After my ginormous Cosmo last night, I ended up falling asleep on the couch around 9:30. I a such a wild child.

One of the hardest things for me as a parent is the general ungratefulness of children.

I still haven't figured out a way to deal with this very well, but I do try and remember that I was at least 25 before I had any appreciation for the excellence of my parents. Then I remind myself that the boys will likely realize they were shitheads and feel really guilty when they are 30. Yes, I look forward to this day. Bad mom = me.

I must say that the boys and DH do express appreciation and praise for my cooking skills on a regular basis. They know how to keep fed.

My to do list for today:

☐ Clean off desk
☐ Clean off dining room table
☐ Clean off coffee table
☐ Wash dishes
☐ Actually put the dishes away
☐ Vacuum
☐ Make bed
☐ Throw stuff away
☑ Get burrito

I was a somewhat finicky eater as a child (hey, at least grilled cheese sandwiches and fish sticks are easy to cook, right?), but I do remember being grateful to Mom for cooking despite being a career woman and not making me eat things I didn't like. Eating at friends' houses tended to put mealtimes in perspective, and I'm not even counting the one time a friend's grandparents served raccoon to see what reaction they'd get.

Throw stuff away

If you really expand the definition of "stuff," it makes the preceding items on your list redundant. IJS.

Well, damn, Tom, now I want a burrito.

Other onerosity items report:

File cabinet purged, giant stack set aside to go to the shredding bin at work later today. Also, pancakes made, old dry dishes put away, new wet dishes washed and put on now-empty drying rack.

Still to do: Three more birthday cards and/or letters, heckle Matilda into actually EATING the pancakes I made, clear away the ancient Christmas tree trimmings still sitting on the back porch, try to rehab Jerry the lemon tree, who seems to be dying from overwatering with no proper drainage.

I also have to get over my rage at the maintenance guy -- he's been in the backyard trimming the giant loquat trees and rampaging ivy, and while so doing he completely beheaded the two little azalea bushes we rescued from last year's Easter display at church and had been slowly nursing back to health in a nice shady corner. THEY WEREN'T DEAD, THEY WERE DORMANT, AND THEY'RE MATILDA'S MIDDLE NAME, AND YOU BEHEADED THEM. They're just a pair of tragic little stumps now; it makes me want to break his face.

But he's truly not a bad guy; he just knows fuck-all about plants, and it's hardly worth it to try to fix the yard because he's likely at any given time to just bumble on through and swop everything dead.

Second sleep was much more restful than first sleep. CJ sent me a beautiful sunrise picture. Even if he doesn't appreciate a lot of what I do, I love that he gets the little things like a sunrise.

I have a hungry 7 year old I'm watching. Two fruit snack packs, one cut of fruit, two Eggo waffles, and another cup of fruit. Lazy breakfast but he is still hungry. I'm trying to distract him with Legos.