The Mac and Cheese Chronicles

…and God laughs.

I have this nice house now, you see.  After 17 years of following my husband around the world, making a home out of whatever 4 walls we found ourselves in, we have a real house.  With carpet and granite counters and a deck and a basement and even a music room! It’s only 15 years old and we’re the 2nd owners, so there’s not much work needed.  We’d like to update the landscaping, add some built-ins to the music room, get one of those custom closet things…

But before then we’ve got a little more unpacking to do.  Little areas around the house still wait to be sorted, purged and put away.

Then there’s the children.  We need to stay ever vigilant over math woes, I have some fun hands-on history projects waiting and the little one thinks maybe he might want to learn to read.  Or maybe not.  He’s only 4, so we’ve got more than enough time.

We need a better daily schedule and our chore system needs updating.  I’d like to be more efficient at the computer so I can spend my time with more important things.

I’ve got things to do, you see.  Plans.  Important plans.

And God laughs at my plans. Not in a mean or sarcastic way.  But laugh he does, though I think he  acknowledges that all those plans are important.  But before I get too hung up on all I think I have to do, he’d like me to slow down a bit.  He’d like me to get some more rest, eat a little – a lot- healthier, learn to delegate, and get some fresh air.

Because a long time ago, my lonely little girl’s  heart wished to have a big family.  I wanted five children to fill my house with love, laughter and joy.  The Good Lord smiled down at me and said, “Now THAT’S a good plan!”

So God said, “let there be five…and there were five.”

Yes, indeed!  Sometime towards the end of October, our fifth baby will be arriving.  As Boo would say, “the Lord has blessed us again!”

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I had hoped to make  Major Announcement here last week, but that and every other blog worthy moment in my life was preempted by The Sick.

For the last three weeks we have had pretty much every viral symptom known to man.  Headache, stomachache, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, sore throat, sneezing, coughing, aches, chills, fever, congestion, runny nose and crying.

I’m the one doing the crying.

Even though each symptom we’ve had has been pretty mild, someone in the family has had at least one on any given day.

We’ve missed soccer practices, soccer games, religious ed classes and today Bip and I even missed church.  And if you’re Catholic, it’s a Very Big Deal to miss church.  But for the whole hour between when I woke up and the rest of the crew left for mass, I sneezed and coughed and blew my nose.  This was one of those times when having the man be the spiritual head of the house is such a blessing.  Man said, “stay home,” so I stayed.

I’m sure the congregation of mothers with small children, older people, and children with upcoming sports games, recitals and First Communions were glad I was not there to share the love.

I’m not a good patient, either.  I despise being sick. I don’t lie there and quietly recover.  Nope.  I turn into Crabby McCrabbypants, wishing for death in one breath and taking it back with the next. I get very hard to please, then weepy because I’m being difficult. Cooking and blogging and other necessities fall the wayside when I’m sick. It’s not pretty.

So until further notice, this blog is on hiatus.  Don’t worry, it’s not you, it’s me.

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