Again, I am full of excuses for why I have not been blogging regularly. And once again, they are totally legitimate.
So, a few weeks ago, my husband came to me and said that due to adding clinicals to his already-80-hour-a-week-plus schedule, he was going to have to cut back a shift every week at work. He asked me to do whatever it might take to start generating some money. I had just set into another month--posted the schedule, filled the calendar, planned the menu, purchased the groceries--and so announced to him that it would take me about a month to re-route our lives. I became immediately obsessed with re-working the schedule. (I may have mentioned the schedule before: I started scheduling instead of listing about a year ago, and it has been ground-breaking for me.) All day, I was clicking away at the computer and poring over cookbooks, because that was my brilliant idea, my great sacrifice: I was going to give up gourmet cooking and convoluted meal plans for a stream-lined version of feeding the family on a low income. Once that was done, I would squeeze "work" into as many spaces as possible in the schedule, trimming down meal times and chucking anything else that could go. (That, and I had already filled out the forms to get preschool assistance for Boy next school year.)
Then Kevin quit the shift and he sort of looked at me like, "Now, what?" We were only about a week into whatever, and I had readied the schedule but was waiting until we could actually switch over (since the schedule and groceries still had weeks to go). So, I made another move. I pulled the schedule (but not the meal plan, 'cause what are you gonna' do at this point?) from the fridge and threw it away. Three weeks were now "free" to follow job leads and bury ourselves in dirty laundry and paper plates, while we waited for the new schedule to take effect (which always starts the Sunday after the 11th of the month).
Therefore, my long-winded excuse is that I have been dusting off my resume, re-working my curriculum vitae, scanning in written works, and shooting off emails to publishing houses. This is step one in my grand scheme; get back into freelancing. I have also been doing things like applying for renovation assistance, inquiring about home mortgage rates, and pricing the sale of scrap metal. I have spent days and days and days just buried in paperwork, the phone glued to the side of my head, and the computer screen burning holes in my retinas. Poor Boy has bore the brunt of my concentration.
So the deal is this: I have finally relented to a schedule where all the food is the same, every two weeks. I compiled our healthiest and easiest meals, snacks, drinks, etc. copied them and put them in a binder in an order concurrent with the schedule. Right on the schedule is the food to make and at what time. This should cut back on preparation time (since making the same, easy food will become automatic), and also on planning time (since I usually make a new meal plan and grocery list every month). I also pre-made the grocery list that I will take to the store every two weeks, from now until forever. And I discovered something else: making the same things over and over makes it easy to pre-make batches of things. I make coleslaw on Monday, it becomes the side dish for three dinners. I make a bunch of granola, we have breakfast for four. This has always been a principal I used, but it's easier to do this way.
I suppose I've rambled enough for now. I might have more to share about it later. Next week we will actually be on the new schedule and eventually I might have employment news to share.
Here are some Facebook posts from the past couple weeks:
2/6 So Boy was doing something in his room that probably included throwing his body from heights and holding and gun, and I walked in and said something like, "That is so weird. Just so amazingly different."
He's no dummy; he lowered his voice about an octave and came back with, "That's 'cuz I'm a guy. A boy-guy. A man-boy."
What's not to love about that kid?
1/31 Boy is in the back seat of the car yelling "STOP IT! STOP IT!" so I pop off the radio and he says, "Mom. It's indescribable." "What is, honey?" "Later."
1/24 Girl yells, "No, Boy! You don't NEED anything except food and a house and clothes and your PARENTS!" and Boy yells back, "I already have on my PANTS!"
So, a few weeks ago, my husband came to me and said that due to adding clinicals to his already-80-hour-a-week-plus schedule, he was going to have to cut back a shift every week at work. He asked me to do whatever it might take to start generating some money. I had just set into another month--posted the schedule, filled the calendar, planned the menu, purchased the groceries--and so announced to him that it would take me about a month to re-route our lives. I became immediately obsessed with re-working the schedule. (I may have mentioned the schedule before: I started scheduling instead of listing about a year ago, and it has been ground-breaking for me.) All day, I was clicking away at the computer and poring over cookbooks, because that was my brilliant idea, my great sacrifice: I was going to give up gourmet cooking and convoluted meal plans for a stream-lined version of feeding the family on a low income. Once that was done, I would squeeze "work" into as many spaces as possible in the schedule, trimming down meal times and chucking anything else that could go. (That, and I had already filled out the forms to get preschool assistance for Boy next school year.)
Then Kevin quit the shift and he sort of looked at me like, "Now, what?" We were only about a week into whatever, and I had readied the schedule but was waiting until we could actually switch over (since the schedule and groceries still had weeks to go). So, I made another move. I pulled the schedule (but not the meal plan, 'cause what are you gonna' do at this point?) from the fridge and threw it away. Three weeks were now "free" to follow job leads and bury ourselves in dirty laundry and paper plates, while we waited for the new schedule to take effect (which always starts the Sunday after the 11th of the month).
Therefore, my long-winded excuse is that I have been dusting off my resume, re-working my curriculum vitae, scanning in written works, and shooting off emails to publishing houses. This is step one in my grand scheme; get back into freelancing. I have also been doing things like applying for renovation assistance, inquiring about home mortgage rates, and pricing the sale of scrap metal. I have spent days and days and days just buried in paperwork, the phone glued to the side of my head, and the computer screen burning holes in my retinas. Poor Boy has bore the brunt of my concentration.
So the deal is this: I have finally relented to a schedule where all the food is the same, every two weeks. I compiled our healthiest and easiest meals, snacks, drinks, etc. copied them and put them in a binder in an order concurrent with the schedule. Right on the schedule is the food to make and at what time. This should cut back on preparation time (since making the same, easy food will become automatic), and also on planning time (since I usually make a new meal plan and grocery list every month). I also pre-made the grocery list that I will take to the store every two weeks, from now until forever. And I discovered something else: making the same things over and over makes it easy to pre-make batches of things. I make coleslaw on Monday, it becomes the side dish for three dinners. I make a bunch of granola, we have breakfast for four. This has always been a principal I used, but it's easier to do this way.
I suppose I've rambled enough for now. I might have more to share about it later. Next week we will actually be on the new schedule and eventually I might have employment news to share.
Here are some Facebook posts from the past couple weeks:
2/6 So Boy was doing something in his room that probably included throwing his body from heights and holding and gun, and I walked in and said something like, "That is so weird. Just so amazingly different."
He's no dummy; he lowered his voice about an octave and came back with, "That's 'cuz I'm a guy. A boy-guy. A man-boy."
What's not to love about that kid?
1/31 Boy is in the back seat of the car yelling "STOP IT! STOP IT!" so I pop off the radio and he says, "Mom. It's indescribable." "What is, honey?" "Later."
1/24 Girl yells, "No, Boy! You don't NEED anything except food and a house and clothes and your PARENTS!" and Boy yells back, "I already have on my PANTS!"
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