A few minor events happened today. For one, I caught the girls’ horrendous summer cold, which rendered me face down on the dining table this morning during breakfast, trying my best to answer my daughters’ usual rapid-fire questioning by mumbling through the tablecloth. Also, I started clearing out Saoirse’s room in preparation for Quinn’s big sleeping quarters switcheroo. We ordered the little one’s new bed this weekend, so it should be here in a couple of weeks. I’m not too worried anymore about the girls themselves sharing the room–at bedtime, Quinn and Saoirse have been climbing under SK’s covers together to read books, and it takes the two of us to tear them apart–but actually trying to figure out how to stick all this furniture into one small room with baseboard heaters is like playing the world’s worst Tetris game, only with expensive wood. Seriously, I may have teared up a little. Twice. Keep in mind a few months ago we thought we’d be in a larger house by now, but we all know how that worked out, which is fine, but still. THE WORLD’S WORST TETRIS GAME. In my house. Also, don’t try to move a bed with a trundle around a room by yourself when you’re pregnant, especially if you’re so impatient you don’t actually remove the rug from under said bed and trundle first, because you’ll pull something in your side and your back will hurt and you may or may not break the headboard a little in the process.
Yeah. It was one of those days. And because it was one of those days, and because our outdoor thermometer read 101 degrees at one point this afternoon, and did I mention I’m pregnant and instantly wilt into cellophane when the temperature climbs above a balmy 78, when SK told me she didn’t want to go anywhere, that she wanted to stay inside and have a “nice and cozy day,” as it’s called around here, I may have jumped on it. I mean, as quickly as a sick woman with a weird belly that pokes out can do.
Fruit Cobbler Green Monster
Layer all ingredients in the blender in the order listed. Puree until very well blended. Make sure you can’t see any large pieces of spinach or flax seed, because if you can see them, you can taste them. Pour a big glass for yourself and divy up the rest between your children, who will be circling your ankles. You know, because “I like dis geen monstah!”
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