The boys had their Cub Scouts’ Blue and Gold Banquet yesterday. Every family was supposed to bring a side dish. The theme was “Chinese New Year” and our $5 per family contribution was paying for Beef with Broccoli, Sweet and Sour Chicken, rice and drinks. Since my kids don’t like Chinese food (and probably half the kids I know don’t either), I thought I’d make macaroni and cheese.

That was THE PLAN.

When I went to the grocery store early in the week, I completely forgot about THE PLAN. For the rest of the week, I kept reminding myself I needed to go back there for virtually every ingredient in the recipe. I even made a list. The week progressed into Friday morning, then Friday afternoon, then Friday evening, and I was too tired to summon the strength to go to the store. I looked in the fridge and saw grapes and a melon and apples. Suddenly, I had a NEW PLAN: fruit salad.

A little voice in my head told me I’d better do it right after the kids went to bed. But I was tired from my usual long day, and wanted to sit for just a few minutes. I reminded myself that if I didn’t do it that night, I wouldn’t have time the next day. But my few minutes of sitting was all the free time I had. My adoration hour is from 10 pm to 11 pm, and by the time I got back from that, I crawled straight into bed.

The next morning, I thought about my NEW PLAN, and told myself that I would still be able to do it. It would only take about ten minutes. But I had a house full of kids to get ready, Mary would not let me put her down, and I was trying to help Billy decorate the cake he was entering in a contest at the Banquet. Finally, it was time to go.

I washed the grapes and put them in a bowl. It was MY SOLUTION.

In the end, there was more than enough food. At least two other people brought macaroni, and several brought spaghetti. All my grapes were gone.

Next time, MY SOLUTION will be THE PLAN.

I come slowly to this holy hour,
Within my heart deeply regret my pace.
In truth do I long to receive His grace,
Knowing this time in prayer it does shower.
Time and again witness to His power,
I should eagerly run and take my place.
Seeing Him there contained in that gold case,
Incomprehensible Truths; I cower.
How can it be that God, Maker of all,
Deigned to be there for all of us to see?
Crumb of Divinity captured and shown.
Something so great found in something so small.
God speaks softly in a whisper to me,
Blinking back tears trembling before His throne.

I’m shopping for clothes…ack.

I wouldn’t mind shopping for clothes if my size were in the single digits.

{sigh}

The idea of spending money on something that really had better not fit me in 3 months is depressing. But so is getting dressed every morning.

And it doesn’t help that I’m very picky. My arms are short, so nothing long-sleeved. I like 3/4 sleeve best unless it’s hot. No V-neck (always too low). No boat-neck (they always slip off my shoulders). No trim at the neck or cuffs that might irritate my sensitive skin. Must be nursing-infant accessible. And what is up with cowl-necked sweaters? Can we please move on to the 21st century? Or at least the last decade of the 20th?

And then there are color issues. I like blue. Outside of that, my taste is very limited. Black and gray and navy are great…for winter. But spring is coming (right? spring is coming? sometime?) and I prefer lighter colors in the spring. But a wardrobe of blue shirts ranging from pale blue to robin’s egg blue is rather boring. Lilac is cool. And, uh, that’s about it. I’m actually considering pink, because coral just won’t look good on me.

And then I look at pants. I prefer boot cut. Tapered legs seem plentiful. Yeah, I’ll order one of them and a cowl-necked sweater and play some Go-Gos.

I’m just glad I’m doing this all online and not in a store. I’m exhausted and I’m not even physically trying on clothes.

Thank goodness I’m not looking for a bathing suit.

P.S. Holy cow! Spell checker worked!

On Saturday, Katie and Jenny were moaning because there were no little girls around to play with. I needed to go to the grocery store, so I invited them along, and the proposition did cheer them. Of course, I took the baby, too. But by the time we headed for the door, Peter was up from his nap with shoes on and coat in hand. He has a sixth sense.

“I want go too.” Nevermind that he has no idea where we’re going.

“Use this time wisely,” I scolded my husband wondering why I was taking four little children to the grocery store on the busiest shopping day of the week.

It wasn’t too bad. Mary didn’t get fussy until the very end, and Katie was very helpful in putting the items on the belt for the checkout.

But I could tell I’ve grown weak from lack of doing such an exercise in quite a while. I bought kid yogurts AND drinkable yogurts AND a big container of pretzel rods AND a bag of generic fruit loops. Believe it or not, I said no to twice as many things.